


I Still Love You

by 1f_this_be_madness



Series: No Love Like Your Love [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: Affection, Affectionate Insults, All the band has, Anger, Angry Roger Taylor (Queen), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Band Fic, Band as Family, Banter, Because I can't stop myself from writing it I'm so sorry, Ben Hardy is a prankster (and also slightly awkward but we forgive him), Ben Hardy is quietly into everything that Joe is doing, Ben is charming and he's also a nerd, Ben is here!, Ben is shy and sweet and I love it, BoRhap boys and kids, BoRhap boys to the rescue, Bohemian Rhapsody song references, Brian and Roger are so loyal, Coffee Shops, Crying, Declarations Of Love, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Friendship, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Dinners, Fights, Fist Fights, Flirting, Fluff, Freddie's death is listed as major because it is, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Gwilym Lee is a voice of reason, Gwilym Lee is the sweetest person ever, Gwilym is a gentle soul, He still misses Freddie, He's had a rough go of it, Hugs, I feel like Rami Malek would have gorgeous handwriting idk why, I mean who wouldn't be though? Press hounds are everywhere, Innuendo, Interviews, Introspection, Joe Mazzello can put anyone at ease and it's beautiful to behold, Joe Mazzello is a goofball, Joe Mazzello needs help, Joe Mazzello wants to help, Joe is just so bubbly and cheerful, Joe talks about the loss of his father, John Deacon is nervous about the press, John Deacon is trying to live his best life, John is shy and still snarky of course, Letters, Modern Era, Nicknames, Not Canon Compliant, Okay I had to mention Lucy because she and Rami are so cute together help me, Okay honestly Ben is just into Joe and the feeling is pretty mutual, POV Alternating, Platonic Hardzello but they flirt so much, Platonic Kissing, Poor Brian, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen), Rami Malek is a sweetheart, Rami is cheer squad, Rami is the best, References to Bohemian Rhapsody movie, References to Depression, References to cop shows, References to previous thoughts of suicide, Road Trips, Roger gets loud and angry and he swears worse than a sailor, Sad Brian May, Smoking, Snail mail definitely needs to make a comeback guys, Some angst because John is still hurting, Sort Of, Swearing, The boys at Rockfield Farm, Veronica is so sweet, What-If, Writing, but we all love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:47:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1f_this_be_madness/pseuds/1f_this_be_madness
Summary: After the insanely amazing fact that John Deacon had watched the movie Bohemian Rhapsody and saw him, yes, Joe Mazzello, and the incredible Rami Malek playing the role of his LIFE-- (and Gwilym and Ben of course had done an amazing job too) John had made the comment that he considers them to be friends.But what happens when Joe wants to expand the friend group to include some auld acquaintance? He only wants to help, but... well, it's a hard life.





	1. Chapter 1

"Ben, hey. I need your help, buddy."

Ben Hardy sighs and runs his hand through his swoop of blond hair as he talks into his mobile phone. "I'm a little busy at the moment, Joe, mate. There was a reason I couldn't be on the press tour. You three look rather cosy together, by the way." Joe had sent him a picture of him, Gwilym, and Rami all crushed into some tiny seat with humongous dorky grins on their faces. He tries not to feel jealous, but the pang is there nonetheless. He wishes he hadn't taken this series job, even though it's a JOB, come on, and he should be grateful. He misses hanging with the boys, though. Particularly Joe. 

There's just something about the fast-talking bubbly idiot that he enjoyed from the second they met. Joe is never _not_ talking or singing or dancing, which is everything that Ben doesn't do, but he's got killer moves and a super great smile and he's so damn easy to talk to. Which is great for Ben in particular because he's not an initiator. He isn't shy, exactly; just doesn't talk unless he has something to say. Which either ends up as an acerbic joke or some excited anecdote that for some reason Joe is always happy to listen to. Ben sighs again in frustration. Maybe he ought to stop being a self-absorbed prick and actually help his friend out. 

"Wait a minute, mate. What...what do you need?"

Joe lets out a sound of excitement and then bumbles out "I, uh...well, here's the thing. I need to set up a meeting between Brian, Roger, and John Deacon, because I met John and I think-- I think he could really use his guys in his life again." There is silence on the line, and Joe clears his throat worriedly. "Um, hey... Are you still there, Ben? Benjamin?"

Joe hears a deafening crash as his friend's phone falls to the floor.

Well, sugar honey ice tea, this isn't going that great, is it? Joe swallows and rushes to try and explain as he hears Ben pick up the phone again. "Well, see, I met John at his house a couple weeks ago. His son, the youngest, Cameron-- I met him before, remember? Yeah well apparently his dad wanted to meet me if I could keep from being followed when I went there. He's really nice, a great guy, Ben. He's just so... he's really sad, still, and I want to help him."

Ben tries to speak and his voice is a croak. "You...you actually got to meet _John Deacon?_ Mate, are you serious?"

"Yeah!" Ben can visualise Joe's enormous smile as he speaks quickly "it was amazing, man. It really was. He's awesome, and he said he liked the movie, that it was like he had his best friend back for a little more than two hours." Joe's voice cracks as he says that and Ben feels a lump fill and close his own throat. He coughs and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers, widening his eyes to keep them dry as best he can.

"Wow. That's, that's great, mate. Uhm." Ben sniffs and rolls his lips inward, biting the lower one before adding, in an attempt to make this businesslike in order to help Joe rather than crying into the phone "Have you asked him anything? About the band, or about seeing Brian and Roger again?"

"Uhhh, well..." Joe draws out his words, stalling. 

Ben's eyes narrow in disbelief. "Are you telling me that you haven't even brought this UP to him? Joe?"

Weakly, Mazzello offers "I--wanted it to be a surprise?" 

"Oh, my god."

"I know, Benny, I know. So what d'you say? You game to help me out with this, or what?"

"Well I'll probably need to meet him too, first...." Ben pauses and ponders. "But yes, okay. I will do my best to help you with your insane idea. And hope we don't screw the pooch on it too badly, because I really don't want the hatred of one to three Queen members on my head. I cannot stress how much I don't want that."

Joe giggles and then his laughter peters out and dies. "Don't worry, Benny, since it's my idea I think I'd be the one to incur the hate if it happens." He speaks now with a plea in his voice, sounding genuinely fearful: "If John were to get angry with me--I don't think I could take that. Same with Roger and Brian, but John...it would be like I'm letting him down, like I'm not honouring his decision to leave the band, or worse-- that I'm disrespecting it. Oh my god, Ben, is that what this is? Is that what I'm doing??" Joe's voice rises to an honest squeak rather than the manufactured shrieks he has long perfected. He sounds like he is freaking out and genuinely terrified. And he sounds small, so small. 

Ben feels his heart drop into his feet. "No, hey, Joe. Listen to me, mate. It's going to be alright. We--we can try and talk to John, if he's okay with meeting me, and we'll feel this out together, yeah? But don't beat yourself up over this. This idea isn't about disrespect or dishonour, it's about you seeing someone you respect a lot and wanting them to be happy. You have a helluva big heart, Joe. That's all this is. And trust me, mate, it's a good thing. A damn good thing." Ben wets his lips and continues as he hears Joe let out a slightly shaking breath. He wants to calm him down, he wants to help. So "It's one of the things I love most about you," he says.

"Aw, that's very sweet. I love you too, my friend. And thanks." Joe's voice strengthens as he responds thus, and Ben is relieved. 

"You're welcome. Now, let's get on with bringing this idea to fruition, shall we?"

"...You and your big words, I'm tingling. Yeah, let's do it, baby!" Joe crows, real excitement suffusing his voice once more. Ben chuckles at him fondly.

"Alright," Ben really REALLY hopes that he will not come to regret this. "... it's a go."

***

John is utterly gobsmacked still by how decent these actors are to him. Joe gets coffee with him whenever he is in London or near John's home, and Gwilym is around often as well. Rami has begun writing him lovely letters in the mail: "People don't write letters anymore, but it's a lost art that I think ought to be found," he says earnestly.

The end of the current fortnight has Mazzello asking if he minds meeting Ben: "He's the guy who played Roger in the film and he's pretty great. He was sorry he didn't get the chance to meet you before. It wouldn't be formal," Joe reassures swiftly. "He and I just meet up for coffee when we can --like you and I have-- and if you were to be there, we could just happen to walk by and say hey to you. Or not. If you aren't comfortable with that it's totally okay, John."

John is and remains grateful for Joe's easy acceptance of him and his particular ways. He always allows John the chance to do something if he WANTS to, and that means a lot in a life of rules and expectations for practically everything one must do. Queen had subverted those expectations as much as they could through their music, but out in the world with the press and all, especially during the latter years of their reign, there were so many rules. So many eyes. Which is one reason that John kept himself cloistered privately after packing it all in.

Even Brian and Roger had said that they bore a responsibility to Freddie and to the legacy of Queen. A _responsibility._ Music had never been, never felt like a responsibility for John; it started in his mind not as a career but a hobby that had taken off in a stupendous, invigorating, and at times terribly frightening manner for him. But it had been Freddie who took care of him, and after he was gone... John closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to ground himself. Joe, he is talking to Joe, he's got to answer him. Not everything need send him into a tailspin of emotion over the loss of his dearest friend. Yet the pain is still so sharp; it never goes away. Or at least it hasn't yet.

"... I'm sorry, Joe," he apologises. "I get--stuck, sometimes, caught up in thoughts. Memories."

Joe's response is sprightly and warm. "All good, man. Take your time--I know that being out and about isn't exactly your favourite thing." There is a gentle smile in his voice and John chuckles in reply.

"But of course I do know how to work a crowd." John's dryness sparks like lightning across a clear sky. Joe now loses it with laughter.

"Oh my god," Mazzello gasps. "How in the world did the guys in the band manage to keep straight faces around you?"

John looks down with a bashful smile that abruptly disappears. "Well, they had...years of practise." He recalls the fights and the distance, widening into a gulf especially after Freddie passed on--how drastically things had changed without their dear Fred, their centre round to keep them together. How horrible he felt about it. He still feels terrible for leaving his friends behind, but what can he do? He does not know if he will be able to handle meeting Ben, is unsure if he will remind him too painfully of Roger, but he also does not want to refuse Joe outright; especially not after all of his decency and kindness. At least not without giving a reason, an explanation. He owes honesty to the man who had portrayed him so well, with such honesty of his own. "I'm not sure I can ..." John clears his throat and tries to organise his thoughts. "Things are still so hard, if I were to come out and meet, it... thinking of the lads, of Freddie, never gets any easier for me, no matter how long it has been. And I don't know _why_. It should, certainly, it ought to; everybody says..." John stops speaking, he hears Joe's breathing. It seems to hitch. "I'm sorry, Joe, I didn't intend to say all of that, I don't want to burden you."

"John," Joe's breath whistles out. "I don't mind you telling me all this, really. And I--I understand it. Not, not in the same way, exactly, but..." The young man's voice wobbles as he says "I don't usually tell people this; it's depressing, but. You should know, I think. I want to tell you. My father died during the making of the movie. He had--brain cancer. And it was really rough, but I'm getting through it alright. I've got friends, like the boys--Rami, Gwil, and Ben were great when it happened, they still are. And the film will forever be one of the most special experiences of my life. Because of so many things, for so many reasons, but one of the most important ...my dad was so happy to hear about it. He was declining, but every night I would call him and he would ask about my day and the filming, and it...it gave me, and I hope it gave him, so much comfort in his final days."

Joe recalls the first time he really thought about his father being gone. After he initially heard the news, Rami was with him and they sat up talking about anything and everything, and then he had gone to work again on the subsequent morning. It had been a great day on set, his big scene playing the bassline of 'Another One Bites The Dust' to stop a fight and there was that undercurrent of danger with Rami playing Freddie not slowing down but spiraling. There was so much pathos in the scene. That was great, and Joe went to the room flying high that night and keyed in his father's Skype name to call and tell him all about it. Before he remembered, and he'd lost it. Gwilym found him hunched in front of his laptop, staring frozen at the screen with silent tears cascading down his cheeks onto the keys. Gwil had pulled him back and wiped his face and called him Joey so softly, holding him close and rubbing circles on his back to soothe. Ben had swooped in to clean the salty liquid off of the computer to protect it as Rami brought him water. And then they all cuddled up together in a pile on the floor with Joe so that he would not feel alone. With them he was and still is not alone, which means so much to him.

The younger man clears his throat and his voice is now choked and pitched higher. "But it hurts, it still does. So much. When I think of something I want to say to him, or that I can't wait to give him a hug or to see his smile, and then remember that he's gone..." His voice completely breaks and then he sucks in a heaving breath as he adds wetly "But we can both think of good things, and try to remember--and if not, we can-- I know I feel better when I'm with my friends. You're one of them, which is awesome," Joe's tone lightens as he speaks thus. "... I'm so lucky, John. Truly. And I wouldn't be where I am if I didn't have friends like Ben, so I'd really love to introduce you to him if you're willing to meet him." Something sharpens in Joe's voice now, his words grow intense in a way that John cannot completely decipher, though his tone remains warm and kind: "I want you to know that you've got people in your life who can, who want to help you and comfort you like...like I've been comforted."

John is silent for a time, his eyes are burning with tears unshed and his heart is full of so much feeling--gratitude for Joe's trust in him, to divulge his own grief. John feels a tearing icy sorrow slice through his body on the younger man's behalf, and he decides "I would be happy to meet him, Joe. And...thank you, for saying all of that, and for confiding in me. So very much. It means...it means the world." _I never thought I could be a comfort to someone like that, never imagined this. But it gives me hope._ John longs to speak those words, but he cannot articulate them aloud. Not yet. He hopes, however, that he may be able to some day, one day soon.

"You're welcome, and... to me too, John. It means a lot that you're willing to listen," Joe speaks quietly. "I'll tell Ben that you want to meet him, and we can set up a time, uhm." Joe sniffles but continues "Does this coming Saturday work for you? Benny's got a day off from shooting his new TV show. He's all fancy now, working on a _serial_." 

John hears the affection in Joe's voice along with the kidding taunt and smiles. It reminds him of how Roger often spoke about Brian, and at this moment the memory is not a painful one. "Saturday is fine; I'll tell Veronica that I will be out for a bit."

"She's more than welcome to come too, if she'd like," Joe chirps. "You two are just adorable and I don't want her to miss out on her coffee. I mean--I hope saying that isn't too weird. It's not like I know she HAS to have coffee or anything..." _Or that I ship you two super hard...._ Smooth, Joe. Super smooth.

John dips his head and feels warmth shoot all the way down to his toes as he laughs. "No, I... that's lovely, I'm glad you know about her being an avid coffee drinker like myself. I will ask her, but I'm sure she'd love to join us and to see you."

"Great!" Joe is relieved and excited. "I'll let Ben know we're on; just tell me what time is good for us to meet you guys."

"Okay," John returns. "So long for now. Cheers, Joe."

"Bye John." They hang up the phone and Joe pumps his fist, all smiles as he lets out a wordless shout of excitement. This is going to be so _great!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot to do on this, my loves. Haven't written Ben Hardy before so this will be a challenge! More chapters are to come very soon. 
> 
> *Music had never been, never felt like a responsibility for John; it started in his mind not as a career but a hobby that had taken off = this is true, it is said that John joined Queen on a whim, for fun. He was an accidental rock star, which lends itself to yet another reason (an inference on my part, of course) as to why he likely distanced himself from the band. 
> 
> *I saw an interview on The View where Joe Mazzello was asked a question about and talked of his father, who did pass away during filming. He said that his costars provided him with a lot of comfort and that Bohemian Rhapsody will always be special to him in part because he was able to speak to his father every night about what he did and give him something to look forward to.
> 
> I hope this was a respectful way to portray Joe's grief, and I want to express my own sincere belief that though grief makes everyone who suffers it feel profoundly alone, no one suffering is truly alone. I hope all those people who are grieving or have grieved over losses of any kind can find comfort, as I have after suffering a personal loss of my own, in part through my writing.
> 
> Comments and suggestions are welcome and appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Veronica and Ben and Joe in a coffee shop

John sits with Veronica in the corner of a coffee shop behind a pillar and next to a plant that obscures sight from outside the windows around him, yet still allows him and his wife to have a clear view. For once in London the sky is high and blue without a rain cloud in sight, and John takes some measure of comfort in that even as he is nervous to meet Ben. 

He has no idea why this should be so nerve-wracking-- he and Ronnie got here early for a bit of a sit down before Joe is to show, and he says around 11:30 is when he will be there, so they should keep an eye out for him.

Sure enough here he comes after eleven with a smile for the barista and an order that he waits for at the counter. He gives no indication that he has seen John yet, something he and Rami and Gwilym have worked hard to perfect so as to not draw undue or unwanted attention onto the erstwhile bassist. All of them recall with revulsion the instance with hounding fanatics who had scared John (into their car, luckily; but that was because of Rami's presence of mind alone). No one desires a repeat of that particular excursion.

Joe now accepts a coffee and is talking and laughing with the barista in his usual easy way; a man has also come up to him and asks if he would mind signing his napkin. The guy's voice sounds sheepish as it carries across the coffee shop: "...You played my older brother's absolute favourite musician of all time, and the bloke who was the sole reason that I started learning to play the bass." Joe smiles, and for a moment John wonders if he will point him out to this man, inform him _'Actually the bassist himself is here'_ thrusting John unceremoniously out of his self-imposed exile and back into the spotlight....

But no, this is Joe, who simply smiles and tells the man "It was a privilege and a pleasure for me to play him, so thank you. He's something, isn't he? Probably qualifies as an electrical engineering genius, too--made his own amplifier and named it AC/Deacy!" That peal of real delight from Joe fills John up with cheer and thankfulness and relief. This young man is brilliant, a class act all the way. He feels a hot burst of shame over his moment of doubting panic, though news and notoriety has its sinuous way of worming into people's hearts and heads. Yet Joe remains unscathed--wonderfully, mercifully so.

The actor waves goodbye and beams after the man who had come up to him, and sips from his coffee as another, younger person with short blond hair, a round face, and the sparkle of a tiny earring comes up behind Joe and begins massaging his shoulders. A cigarette dangles from his lips. His whole body, movements and looks alike, screams _heartthrob_. 

Joe DOES scream and spits coffee all over the counter in shock, but the newcomer starts laughing as he dips his head against the back of Joe's shoulder and says "Gotcha, Joe! Hey buddy."

Joe instantly tries to wipe up some of his coffee with his sleeve and says "I am so sorry" to the barista, who shakes her head and wipes the rest clean with a cloth and assurance that this happens all the time. He thanks her and turns to the man who had startled him and is now doubled over laughing. With a shake of his head and a smile, Joe opens his arms and the blond straightens to give him an enormous, tight hug. "Benny you scared the _crap_ out of me, oh my god."

Wiping his eyes and letting go of Joe with a "Sorry mate," though he really doesn't seem all that broken up about freaking out his friend, the newcomer snuffs out his fag and keeps one hand on Joe's shoulder as he leans across the counter to place his own drink order. To John Deacon everything about this young man twangs through his insides with a single word: _Roger_. He certainly has to be Benjamin Hardy, John has no doubts whatsoever about that.

Ben glances over at Joe, who stands beside him now, with a grin as he accepts his drink order and lifts it for a cheers. Blowing upon the liquid carefully, he turns as Joe does and the two of them move away from the counter and through the place, Ben's blue-green eyes bright behind the burst of steam that rises from his cup. Those light eyes lower and he smiles, full lips curving in a soft way as he tilts his head toward Joe's to listen whilst the other is speaking, and suddenly John is struck by a memory of himself walking next to Roger and listening to his friend's husky high voice yammering about something until they both broke into giggles and began laughing hysterically.

Veronica squeezes her husband's hand and John looks over to her, his eyes and cheeks crinkling up in a real smile as footsteps casually come up to their table, and John turns his face to say "Hello, Joe."

"Hey John!" Joe is grinning at him. "Veronica, how are you?" She stands and leans over to give him a hug and he kisses her on the cheek before John stands up as well, his eyes trained on and carefully watching the blond man who is standing quietly beside Joe, almost bashful. His blue eyes are flickering as if he does not quite know where to look and his knuckles are stark white, bulging around his cup as he clutches it. Joe grins at Veronica, John, and then at him as he says "Take a breath, Benny. Ben Hardy, I'd like you to meet John and Veronica Deacon. John and Veronica, this is Ben."

John smiles, he cannot help himself, and holds out a hand to shake. "Hi there, Ben."

Ben lets out a breath, his mouth forming into an 'o' shape and then he latches onto John's hand with a firm grip as he speaks in a rough voice, his husk at least an octave lower than Roger's "...Hi. It's, this is an honour. Sorry, I'm probably--" He is shaking a little and feels like his palms are getting clammy with sweat. He attempts to relinquish John's hand, because the man most certainly does not want to deal with that, it's disgusting, but John's green-grey eyes are understanding and gentle and kind as he presses Ben's hand with his own.

"That's alright," John reassures him quietly. "I'm very happy to meet you."

"Th-thank you," Ben stammers and his adam's apple dips in the deepest bob because oh my god, he's got to let go of John and stop bumbling all over himself, what the hell is he doing? Come on, Ben--with a breath, he settles his shoulders and lets John go. Looking over to Veronica, he does his best to smile. This is easier, he can charm her if he isn't looking at John, and unobtrusively wipes his hand before taking hers. "Lovely to meet you, Veronica," Ben purrs, though he doesn't realise what he is doing until Joe lets out a snort of laughter.

Veronica smiles. "Likewise, dear. Quite the charmer, aren't you? Just like Roger." Ben blushes furiously as John lets out a laugh, that delighted sound Ben recalls from videos, and he ducks his head a bit whilst pulling back, attempting to apologise. "Don't worry your heart, I love it. Gives an old lady a boost, don't you think?"

"Oh, you aren't old," Begins Ben instantly; he still sees her and John as they were in the eighties--probably because he's always looking at Joe, and his similarities to John are striking even now with the real man beside him; holy shit he is standing right THERE--and then all three of them are laughing at him.

"Smooth, Ben," Joe giggles and John is leaning his head back, eyes nearly closed in mirth. "Are you going to sit down, man, or what?"

"Sorry, I mean, I didn't know if they'd--if you'd want--" Ben instantly says, but Veronica offers him a seat. 

"No, it's fine. We expected for you to be joining us. Sit, please." Ben swallows and looks over to John, who has stopped laughing but still seems at ease, which is both stunning and vindicating. He nods slightly to Ben and lifts one palm, gesturing at a chair across their small table for him to sit upon.

Thank god for Joe Mazzello--Ben sits down across from John Deacon and is immediately tongue-tied. Meanwhile Joe is talking to Veronica and John interjects quietly like they are old friends. It is amazing to witness John seeming so comfortable, and he keeps on glancing over at Ben with those intelligent eyes, full of depth and interest and that same genuine generosity of spirit, Ben wants to call it, that he had seen when watching video after video of Queen interviews and backstage footage, including John's moments behind a camera and when he spoke to Japanese fans (and messed around on-camera with Rog and Freddie whilst Brian spoke). 

Ben can't stop himself from laughing at Joe's antics, he is hilarious, and John smiles with something in his face that looks almost like pain. Ben notices it flash there and then it is gone, and he thinks perhaps the man might not be as adverse to getting in touch with his old friends again as Hardy first believed. He cannot be sure, of course; he has only just met this man, but maybe if he makes himself talk... Clearing his throat and shifting his body forward, Ben sips some of his drink and flicks his eyes up to John's. "Erm...,"

Before he can say anything, the older man says "Call me John, I've asked your mates to, and ...well, I wanted to tell you that you can as well." Ben blinks. "I also wanted to say--you did very well playing Roger. I enjoyed it, your performance."

Wow. "Thanks, I'm glad," Ben gets out. "I've got to admit I was a bit worried, because I couldn't get his voice right, he's got that--such a particular sound, and I was like 'they aren't gonna pick me unless I can speak that high, right?' especially not when I'm next to Gwilym Lee who nailed Brian's voice to the ground." Joe is nodding. "And then this man over here, and Rami, both did an excellent job with their accents." It was bloody extraordinary, and there Ben was sounding like a ... well certainly not like Roger Taylor.

John shifts and smiles. "Well, your voice isn't so high as his, you're right, but you got a handle on other things, y'know. Unless you can stay in a falsetto, I doubt anyone could match Roger's speaking voice. Can't be faulted for that, unless..." cocking one eyebrow in a dry way, John asks "you were holding out on us?"

Ben's eyes widen and he laughs. "What? Oh, no, definitely not! My singing voice is definitely not anythin' to write home about, and my falsetto is abysmal. We had to layer so much of Roger over my voice. Most people thought it was just for Rami with Freddie, but no."

Joe is nodding again. "Yeah, the sound crew was great, they layered over us a lot; especially during all the 'Galileo's. How many of those did you end up doing, Ben?"

"Er...I think it was twenty at the very least. Probably closer to sixty, though. I was screeching at the end, and the crew was practically forcing tea down my throat so I'd still have a voice for the next scene we shot."

John tucks his chin into his chest with a smile, eyes wide. "We certainly used up a lot of tape on those in the studio," he says. "Every time Freddie asked for another 'Galileo' we had to record over something else, I remember."

Ben whistles. "Are you telling me there could've been, like, ten more minutes of tape for Bohemian Rhapsody? Because that--wow." He leans back in his seat and roughs up the hair on top of his head with an awed incredulous smile. "That's amazing."

"Yes, Freddie was extraordinary," John says.

Ben looks at him with wide blue eyes full of feeling. "You all were, John. Still are, trust me--there's a reason people still listen to Queen, and that so many loved the movie--it's because you four captured something truly masterful and great, and it resonates."

John bows his head in a nod of appreciation. He is slowly getting better at accepting praise, though he still cannot quite believe it. "...Thank you, Ben."

"He's got it right," Joe smiles. "That was beautifully put, Benny. Who knew you were a poet?"

Ben lifts his shoulder in a self-conscious shrug. "Eh, just for this. 'Cause it's true."

***

The four of them end up sitting and talking for a while; a lot of the conversation becomes a blur to Ben, because holy shit, he is actually talking to John Deacon, the shyest most retiring member of a stupendous rock band, the man who practically became a recluse after losing someone who was a member of his family. 

For Freddie was family to them all, he realises now; after learning so much about them and getting to know Brian and Roger, who are still so affected-- looking into John's face and witnessing first-hand the sadness entrenched in his eyes and his movements and voice, a weight that never departs, never leaves--Ben is, against his better judgement, starting to gain some belief that Joe's idea to have Brian and Roger and John meet up again is actually not a terrible one. 

After finishing coffee at last, they say goodbye to Veronica and John, and Veronica suggests they all four might like to have tea at the house sometime if they want. Both young men look from her to John, who smiles. "If you're very good, we may graduate you up to supper," he says drily. "But don't get too excited, now-- if I'm asked to cook you might not want to come."

Ben is actually the first to burst out laughing at that, and his mirth reminds John once more of Roger as the laughter rolls over him in a rush. Joe chuckles along with him, as pleased as if he had been the one to conceive of the joke himself. "No--no worries," Ben gasps. "I'm certain you'll do better than Joe did when he tried to cook for us."

"Hey," Joe is defensive. "I said American ovens heat up slower than British ones, and I stand by that incredibly accurate assessment." His voice goes up a bit at the end.

"Yeah, sure, mate. Maybe that would explain the food being a LITTLE burnt, but you caught everything on _fire._ "

"Fine, fine," Joe smacks his lips and lifts his hands in surrender. "I concede, but I won't be cooking at John's house, which means that effectively, I will be saving your life. You're welcome."

Ben rolls his eyes. "Thank you both for the invitation," he says. "We will definitely take you up on it."

"Definitely," Joe nods. "And we'll tell Rami and Gwilym too. Just let us know when it's happening and what we'll need to bring." The husband and wife nod, and then Joe's forehead crinkles and he puffs ot his lower lip. "...Wait. Are we doing tea or supper? Because now I'm confused."

Veronica looks at John, telegraphing something with her eyes, and he is the one who answers "...Supper. We ought to make an evening of it, to thank you all for what you've done."

"Oh, please," Joe demurs with warmth. "You guys were the ones who did it; we just did our best to tell your story."

"--And we were more than happy to do so, John," Ben tells him, reaching out and shaking his hand again. "It's been a privilege and a pleasure for us all to showcase the magic and majesty of Queen as best we can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I have Ben being super awkward when meeting John because I saw a video about the film where he went really in-depth into answering a question about Queen's catalogue, talking especially about his favourite song ('White Queen/As It Began') and I got the sense that wow, this man is a Queen _nerd_. Not just a fan, but a SUPER fan, so I had to have him freaking out a bit. If not necessarily more than the others, at least in a manner that's a bit different. Hope you all like it :D
> 
> *"I've got to admit I was a bit worried, because I couldn't get his voice right, he's got that--such a particular sound, and I was like 'they aren't gonna pick me unless I can speak that high, right?' especially not when I'm next to Gwilym Lee who nailed Brian's voice to the ground." = I am torn between frustration that Rog's voice wasn't high in the film, but obviously if Ben doesn't have that same register he can't MAKE his voice as high and sweet as Roger's, and the fact that I definitely think he got other aspects of Roger to a T. I included this comment because I think Ben must recognise it as someone who knows/has learned a good deal about Queen. What do you all think of Ben's performance?
> 
> Also I've got to give love to the Bohemian Rhapsody sound crew for their fantastic editing in the film.
> 
> *"...you four captured something truly magical and great, and it still resonates" = Ben Hardy is quiet but articulate in interviews that i have seen of him, mostly with Joe Mazzello. I wanted to incorporate those aspects of him here, because as a Queen fan i think he also knows the massive effect this band had and still has on the world today. Also someone just needs to let John know that he's amazing in a manner he will accept!


	3. Chapter 3

Ben and Joe walk down to Bankside along the River Thames after parting ways with John and Veronica. Blue sky and bracing breezes make them anxious to remain out-of-doors; and besides, being in London for film press tours gives one little to no time for sightseeing. Plus Ben is a bit tired of film and TV studios at present, he says.

They head northwest past London bridge and see the buildings of Shoreditch across the way. Ben strolls along with hands in his pockets as Joe holds up his phone and takes pictures of anything and everything. "Mate, what are you doing?" Ben asks him.

"...Well I haven't been around the block much here so I'm sightseeing, baby!" Joe crows. "Anything you want to tell me about where we're at?"

Ben sighs and lifts a hand. "Well, William Shakespeare lived around here when he worked at the playhouses in London, starting in the fifteen-eighties."

Joe's eyes widen. "No shit, man? _Shakespeare?!_ Ooh, Gwilly is gonna be so jealous that I was here!"

Ben lets out a laugh and then as they continue to walk, he thinks of John being as comfortable with the band as he is with Joe; and closing his eyes for an infinitesimal moment to brace himself for the gloating he will probably be forced to endure forever after: "Joe, I think..." He clears his throat. "After meeting John, I don't think your idea to try and orchestrate a meeting between him and Roger and Brian is a bad one." He lifts a forefinger as Joe turns to him with an already opening mouth "But I think we definitely need to get Gwil onboard to broach the subject with Brian."

"--And Rami," Joe offers instantly.

Ben's brows lower in confusion. "I figured you would want to tell Rami," he says.

"What? Um, duh, of course I do, Ben! I meant that Rami can also talk to Brian, and maybe to Roger as well, since he--"

"... He's a bit more vocal," Ben finishes. "Yeah, I dunno that I could handle him swearing at us."

"Oh I know I couldn't," Joe replies in earnest. "I'd definitely cry, just start bawling and apologising immediately for even considering the meeting as an option."

Ben shakes his head with fondness at his friend. "You're an idiot, but yeah we'd better let Brian talk to him--he certainly knows how." Growing quietly serious now, the blond adds "You were right, though, Joe. John is a great man. I mean, I didn't have any doubts, of course, but after meeting him...,"

Joe beams. "I know, right?!"

"Right. I just want him to have all the happiness in the world, but he's still so broken up after, about Freddie, it's just-- it's heartbreaking to see." He lets out a shuddering breath and swallows. "And he really seems to miss his other bandmates. Did you notice the way he complimented me on how I played Rog? I mean, wow that was amazing, first and foremost, but--"

Joe is nodding. "Yeah, I hear what you're saying. There was a lotta stuff going on in him with that. His face, and the way he says things...I can tell he misses the guys." Ben's gaze rests on Joe with undisguised affection, a huff and a smile following. "What?" Joe does a double-take. "Why're ya looking at me like that? I'm not the John Deacon whisperer, buddy, calm down."

Ben shakes his head. "No, maybe not, but you really care about him and about the band. You care about all of us, mate. It's so bloody decent, and that's why you're gonna be able to help Queen by doing this. You've already helped John out a good bit. I believe that."

"Oh, stop. You're gonna make me cry!" Joe squeaks, but rolling his lips and flicking his eyes down, gaze open and curious and genuine as ever, he asks "Are you serious, Ben? Is that what you think?"

Having halted his forward motion alongside Joe's, Ben claps his friend on the shoulder and squeezes him in assurance. "Absolutely, Joe."

Joe puts his fingers atop Ben's hand and presses them, with real emotion and a slightly tremulous smile, because honestly he doesn't know if it'll be taken that way by the members of Queen; what if they hate the very suggestion of meeting up again? If he is even able to figure out a way to suggest it.... But Ben believes in doing it and in him, and right now that is more than enough. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

***

Rami and Gwilym come out of a radio hall after an interview, Gwil still sliding his hands up and down the sides of his dark slacks as Rami puts an arm round his shoulders to comfort him: "I can't believe I actually said that about Ringo Starr back there, I'm going to get myself _killed,_ " he whimpered.

"Well a true Beatles afficionado would know that about Ringo, I think. You should be okay." Rami leans his head into Gwil's side and gives him a caring pat. 

Gwilym lets out a breath and dips his head a bit to press his cheek onto the shorter man's sweeping dark hair for a moment of comfort. Rami's right arm clasps him round the waist. "...Thanks Rami. Feel like I've just gotten a bit too big for my britches, is all."

Rami's eyes widen. "Oh, no, Gwil, you're as humble and decent as ever. It's really okay--oh." His phone has started buzzing. "I'm so sorry, just a second." Lifting the device up and widening his eyes, Rami steps away from Gwil just a tick and raises his opposite hand. "Well, that would be Joe," he says.

"...I assume he's already jealous because he heard about us doing this interview together?" Gwilym questions.

Rami smiles and then whistles. "Actually, no. Apparently he and Ben were hanging out, and he took Ben with him to meet John for the first time."

Gwilym grins widely. "Oh, that's amazing, I would love to have witnessed Ben's reaction. Just the sight of his facial expressions, yeah." He leans in to Rami and looks over his shoulder as Rami gasps. 

"Oh my,"

"What is it, Rami?"

"... We've been invited to the Deacons' house for --supper, as is the British way of saying it. Joe's asking when we'll all be in town again so he can let John and Veronica know." 

"Wow." Gwil's eyes blink and widen as his chin draws back and he looks down into Rami's eyes with awe. "Okay, that's awesome," he giggles a bit, and instantly Rami shakes his hand in his own excitement. "Ben must've really poured on the charm then."

"...I mean, it IS Ben," Rami tilts his head to the side, lips stretching into a grin. "Would you expect anything else?"

"Fair point, fair point. Uh, I'll be round for awhile; do we want to try having this supper, say, in the next few weeks? You'll be here with me doing interviews."

"Right, right." Rami is nodding. "Yeah, I think next week would work fine. I'll text him back." His fingers go across the keys of his phone as he murmurs "How--would --next --week --work?" 

Gwilym smiles at his friend with fondness. "You are such an old man, speaking aloud as you type. I love it."

***

"...What am I going to wear?" Laments Gwil. "I mean, this is a special occasion, after all."

It is the following Friday night, and Veronica had said they can show up anytime between four and five. It is decidedly closer to five. "Well I'd lose the tie if I were you, mate," Ben calls across the room to where Gwilym is fiddling anxiously with his bowtie in front of the mirror. "This isn't the BAFTAs, you know." Smoothing down the dark button-down he had decided to wear, the blond comes up and brushes lint from Gwil's shoulders, rubbing them bracingly. "Wear that sea-blue buttoned jumper you've got, mate. It matches your eyes."

Gwilym flushes in embarrassment, tugging on his jacket collar. "Oh, please. You're the one with the striking eyes, Ben--there's got to be a reason Joe is always staring at you."

"That's only one of the reasons," Joe calls as he pops into the room carrying a bottle of champagne and wearing a polka-dotted short sleeved shirt that is somehow very tasteful (shocker) and decidedly Deacy-esque (not so much). "I mean, have you SEEN this man?" Joe gives Ben a swift side-hug and earns himself a smile. "Jeez."

"Guys, please, you all look great," Rami soothes as he shrugs into his leather jacket behind Joe, coming over to the side table to use a comb on his hair. "I really think I ought to bring Veronica some flowers," he murmurs. "Seriously, d'you think the champagne is a bit...much?"

"Well they told us we didn't need to bring anything along," pipes Ben.

"But this is polite," Joe adds. "And I think John will appreciate it. Well, I hope so, since Freddie was so into champagne."

"That he was." Gwilym rips the tie out of his collar in frustration and fumbles at the buttons of his collared shirt. "Ruddy jacket! Here, Ben, I'm going to take your advice on the jumper, mate." Obediently Hardy holds out his hand to receive Gwil's white shirt and suit jacket to hang them up in the closet. Gwil pulls off his undershirt swiftly to grab up the soft cotton garment his friend had suggested. He carefully tugs it over his dark head and smooths it down against the skin of his bare torso. Already as he shifts his shoulders and settles the fabric across them, he feels far more comfortable. He glances back at Ben who shoots him a nod and a thumbs up. 

"We can stop off at a shop to get some flowers, Rami," Ben offers up the idea now.

"I might see if I can grab a lager, may take pressure off your champagne, Joe," Gwil utters. Joe beams.

"Thank you Gwilym! And may I say, you look absolutely _smashing_." Joe goes into a ridiculously over-the-top, absolutely stereotypical posh accent; and then in the voice of John Deacon he adds "That jumper is genius."

"See?" Smirks Ben with triumph. "I know my stuff. We all ready?" He glances around at all of them. "Are we taking your car, Gwilym? Or mine?"

Gwil smiles, agreeable. "It doesn't matter, I've driven before-- though, erm, there's a possibility, however remote, that if someone sees us and where we're heading they might recognise the car as one that picked up John Deacon. ... I could just be paranoid, but. Maybe we ought to drive yours to be more discreet."

Ben nods as he grabs his keys. "No problem. We can take back roads too." 

"--And I'll be all over Benny in the front, so if anyone DOES see us, they'll be watching Ben Hardy and Joe Mazzello lookin' fly and going on a killer date." Joe says.

Ben grins and winks at him. "Don't I wish."

Rami beams as Gwilym rolls his eyes. "Alright, let's get on already, lads. We don't want to be late for supper at John Deacon's house." Gwil stops speaking and gasps, reaching out to Rami and Joe, who are standing on either side of him. "Can you believe this is happening to us? Honestly?" He breathes.

Joe shakes his head. "Nope. Not me, buddy."

"It's extraordinary," whispers Rami, his wide eyes and hushed tone echoing Gwilym's awe.

"...I was there when they INVITED us and I still don't quite believe it," Ben admits, sighing and shaking his head. "All of this is utterly surreal. But let's just appreciate it, yeah?" He opens the door for them all. "After all, it's a bloody miracle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The interview I have Rami and Gwilym leaving in the second portion of this chapter is for the Offset radio show that they conducted in October of 2018. The video of the interview was uploaded to YouTube. Gwilym talked about how every member of Queen had written a top-ten hit and they were the only band ever to do that "because the Beatles had Ringo Starr". He instantly freaked out after upon the possibility of offending Ringo (and I wonder about crazed Beatles fans haha) so I included it. Plus Rami comforting him is lovely to behold, I adore the sweetness of their friendship
> 
> Comments welcome :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supper at the Deacon house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Wiggles91 for all of her lovely ideas for this supper scene, I hope I can incorporate some here :) and thanks to Kiraling for reminding me about the Deacon children!

John Deacon brings in the large chicken he and his wife are to roast, and gives her a kiss on the cheek as he sets it down beside the oven. She smiles at him. "I'll be needing you for the basting in a minute, love," she says. "Rami called and said he and the boys are on their way. Mike should be here as soon as he gets off work, and I know Laura is bringing the girls."

John nods. "Okay. What about Josh?"

Veronica sighs with a light little laugh. "You know him, our man about town. And I know that Cam has a gig today, but he asked me to save him some chicken." She washes her hands and pulls out a cutting board for vegetables. 

John hands her a knife and begins washing the zucchini and squash they will be cooking before handing that over as well. "So we'll put some in a box for him," he says. "What do you need for the chicken baste?" 

Veronica's eyes crinkle as she flips over the page of her cookbook, pushing it across the counter to her husband. "Follow the recipe, dear heart."

Oh. "...Right." He washes his hands now as well and does as she bids.

They shift around the kitchen beside one another, easily working in tandem as Veronica chops vegetables and John coats the chicken in herbs and spices.

As he slides the bird on its pan into the oven, the doorbell rings.

***

The doorbell rings and John, after turning on the heat of the oven, goes down the hall out of the kitchen and past the greatroom to open the door. He sees the four Bohemian Rhapsody boys standing on his front porch. 

Joe grins, offering a jaunty "Evening, John!" And "Here, I--we thought you might like this, as a... well, for Freddie." He holds out a bottle of champagne around the neck of which a sparkly red bow with golden piping is tied. 

John's lips and fingers tremble as he accepts the bottle after a brief moment of hesitation. "Thank you, Joe. I... Thank you all." His eyes find Rami's where he stands next to Joe with a bouquet of bright flowers and a gentle smile. Gwilym and Ben are standing patiently behind them. Gwil lifts a hand to John and Ben nods at him shyly.

John nods back and swallows, and all five of them gaze at each other until he hears his wife call: "Well, John, aren't you going to invite them in?"

"Oh! Yes, please come in." John steps back from and to the side of the door, fingers twisting around the champagne bottle and through its bow as he clutches the glass neck tightly. The heft of glass is trembling as his hand does. 

As the lads pass him to enter the foyer of the house with smiles and nods, "Thank you for inviting us," Gwilym says, and "Cheers." John nods in silence as his throat works, and then realises that he ought to take their coats. 

Ben notices his significant glances and nudges Rami before putting a hand to Joe's back and murmuring "Coats, mate." As he registers what they mean. The boys shrug off their outerwear and the blond man takes all of the garments into his arms as John points out the direction of the kitchen. Joe leads the way there, taking Rami and Gwilym down the hall, as he has been in the house before.

John turns to and opens the coat closet on the right-hand wall beside his front door. "...Thank you," he says to Ben softly as he pulls out hangers on which to drape the lads' coats. He feels he ought to apologise for his severe lack of words, even more than usual; it is simply that this is the largest group of people, visitors, he has invited to his house --at a single time!-- who are not family. Perhaps it would be simpler if they did not remind him of his old friends so fiercely.... But then again, perhaps not.

Ben seems to understand enough about John's reticence without an explanation being necessary, however; his gaze is steady and warm as he responds "No worries at all, John. Want me to hang this one?" He leans into the closet on his own and puts Gwilym's long overcoat onto a hanger. "There we go, mate." He moves backwards, engulfing John with a clean cool scent of something like aftershave that is intermixed with a smoky smell. Again John thinks of Roger and draws a deep, steadying breath. He finds himself relaxing in the warm dark space. It is going to be all right. Ben smiles at him again, eyes flickering up and then down, and they turn and head to the kitchen after John shuts the closet door.

Rami has given the flowers to Veronica, who has cut the tips off of their stems and asks Gwilym to be a dear and hand down a vase (well, actually, he had noticed how high on a shelf the vase was and offered to get it down for her, after which she had patted his cheek in gratitude and called him a dear).

John realises that he had not turned on the timer and hustles over to the oven to do so, placing the bottle of champagne carefully on the countertop as he does. "Well, you're already a better cook than Joe," Ben teases his friend gently as he leans up against him, elbows resting upon the island in the centre of the kitchen. "...he turned the oven up WAY too high."

"Hey, it's not my fault measurements are weird over here!" Joe protests. "I mean, you guys use the _metric system._ Why?"

"The entire world uses it, mate," Gwilym points out. "The only hold out is America. I wonder why."

Ben snickers and Rami grins as Joe opens and shuts his mouth a few times. "...I have no response," he says. "Help me out here, Rami."

"Ah, yes, it's time for the comrades-in-arms to look out for each other. Right, Rami, tell us. Why doesn't America utilise the metric system, mate?"

Rami draws his lips over his teeth and purses them in thought. "Well. I imagine it was because Americans wanted to be different, and then they went a bit far with it and never looked back. It's not easy being eccentric, as we have found out." 

"Hear hear," crows Joe. "Well said!"

"Damn, I don't even have a comeback for that, Rami," Ben whistles admiringly.

Joe beams from Rami over to him as he nudges Ben and points to Rami like a proud parent. "That's my boy."

John smiles, feeling a pang in his chest as he listens to their banter. Gwil is grinning over at Rami too, now, also impressed; and the look of all of them clustered together in his kitchen is so similar to how he had looked and how he felt when he was with the band. 

When he was a part of Queen John sang Freddie's praises even silently; it was a joy to hear him and to be in the same space as his glowing presence, a light in the darkness. Roger shone so brightly too, and he and Brian were darker, quiet, cool; akin to the chilly moon in comparison to Fred and Roger's sun and stars. They were all swiftly tilting planets, kept in orbit by each other's gravitational pulls, and then when one had gone, all the rest shot into space. The spark had died and so had their orbit. John sighs. He cannot make realistic space metaphors, not without Brian's knowledge. He wishes the astrophysicist was here for a moment, to put his gentle explanation in John's whirling mind. But then he would have to leave, and again John would be cold, without Queen's complete magnetic fire reflected from and refracted on them all to keep him warm.

Veronica squeezes her husband's hand as she passes him to put butter, squash, and zucchini into a pan on the stove, and all of the boys are instantly offering to help. "You don't have to do anything, you're our guests," she says, but they want so much to assist that eventually she gives in and allows Joe to peel potatoes, Ben to cut them into cubes, Rami to help her slice and season apples with cinnamon for the dessert that she won't divulge the name of because it's a surprise. Gwilym stands with his eyes fastened on the pan upon the stove, carefully turning over the pieces of squash and zucchini so they will not burn. 

Ben unbuttons his dark sleeves and rolls them up to his elbows, a piece of blond hair falling forward as he bends his head over to eye and cut the first potato Joe has peeled. "Bet you wish you were wearing short sleeves, eh?" Joe asks him, before leaning over and tucking the end of Ben's nearer sleeve back against his upper arm as it comes unrolled.

"Nah, buddy, 'cause then I wouldn't have your hands all over me," he murmurs back at Joe, leaning in and batting his eyelashes cheekily.

"Whoa now, Benjamin! Getting saucy," Joe cackles. "I am so proud of you."

"...Is this a sauce, what we're making?" Rami asks Veronica, nodding at the cinnamon and nutmeg she is melting into some butter. He holds an apple with one hand and pushes a knife into its skin with his opposite thumb, spinning the fruit so that its skin sloughs off in a single thin coil.

"Sauce ...of a sort," she speaks in a cryptic manner, and Rami's eyes widen as he nods slowly and mouths 'oh'. Then John's wife is waving at her husband to go to the door again because there is knocking on it, but before he can get there it is open and the kids and grandkids are rushing in.

"Grampa!" Squeals John's youngest granddaughter, throwing out her arms as she barrels right up to him, and with the most enormous smile the boys have yet seen brightening up his entire face, John crouches and swoops her into a tight hug.

"Hello there, sweetheart. What's the word?"

Large eyes serious in her thin face as he stands with her in his arms and strokes her hair, which is the same colour --and practically the same length-- his had been in the seventies, his granddaughter says what she always does in response to that question: "...Grampa, there's LOTS of words."

John chuckles, and his eyes happen to catch Joe's, who is grinning back at him brightly. Ducking his head a wee bit, the grandfather walks carefully over to stand beside the island where Joe sits with Ben. "I want you to meet someone," he tells his granddaughter quietly. "This is Mr Joe, and he played me in the film that you saw. And this is Mr Ben, who played Roger."

Joe transfers his bright smile from John to his granddaughter, who smiles back, ducking her chin a bit. "Hi," the young man says. "It's awesome to meet you. I hope you think I did a good job playing your grandpa." 

She nods to him. "Yes, ...but you didn't sing," she points out swiftly, seeming almost affronted on her grandfather's behalf. "Grampa can sing."

Joe's eyebrows wiggle. "Oh can he, now?" He is still smiling as John shrugs. Ben lets out a delighted little laugh as this child critiques his friend's performance.

"She's got you there, mate. He can definitely sing--remember the live video we saw for 'Liar'? ...which is rather ironic now," Ben mumbles. 

"Okay, yes, but I didn't know he still did! I'm sorry I didn't get to show that," Joe says. "I hope you liked the movie otherwise?"

She nods enthusiastically, her little face happy. "Yes, especially--" her eyes flicker over to look at Ben and then she ducks her face into John's shoulder.

Joe whistles. "Oho--wow, Ben, your fangirls are getting younger and younger!"

Ben blushes a little and looks at John's granddaughter, ducking his face and lifting his eyes to hers gratefully. "I'm happy to hear you liked me in it," he tells her, sticking out his hand. "That's really kind." Peeking at her grandfather and then at Ben's offered hand, her little hand shoots out and takes his briefly. Ben gently shakes it up and down as he smiles and adds in a husky quiet tone "... It's very nice to meet you."

After Ben lets go of her, John brings his granddaughter over to get a kiss from Gramma and to meet Gwilym and Rami. Gwil wipes his hands on a towel as John sets his granddaughter down and Rami crouches on her level. "Hello there," Rami says. "I want to thank you for letting us talk about your grandfather in our movie. I bet you think he's pretty great, huh?" She nods vigorously. Leaning over and whispering loudly, Rami adds sotto-voce to her with a blinding toothy smile: "So do we." 

She beams and then turns to Gwilym, who has knelt and rested one knee on the linoleum to be as close to her eye-level as he can. "Hello," he says gently in his Brian May voice, and John's granddaughter surprises him by running instantly into his chest and giving him a tight hug, looping her arms around his neck. "Oh, wow. Hi," he chuckles in both astonishment and joy as he hugs her back, giving her a gentle pat as he glances up at Ben, who is watching with a soft expression.

"Guess you aren't the only heartbreaker in the group, Ben. You've got some competition!" Joe chirps.

Laura, the mother of this child, enters the kitchen now and gives John a kiss on the cheek. "Hi, Dad." If she is surprised at the sight of four actors sitting in her parents' kitchen, she does not show it. "...Yes, well, she adored Brian in the movie, his voice and everything was very captivating and calming to her. Didn't you, sweetie?"

Pulling back from Gwilym and patting his face with certainty, "You're nice," she confirms her mother's words with her own findings. "I can tell."

Gwil nods at her with a sweet, disarmed smile. "I'm very happy that you think so. That means a lot to me, thank you."

Laura's husband enters with their older daughter now, and behind him are Michael and his wife with their daughter and son. "Well the gang is all here apart from Cameron, unless anyone else has heard from Josh," Veronica says. Her son and daughter-in-law shake their heads. "Alright then." She looks around as the decibel level has already risen a bit and then claps her hands, realising she has not asked anyone about drinks. "Do any of you have a thirst?" The hostess asks now.

"I'll get some water for us," Laura says. "And for the kids as well. No, you are not having a Coca-Cola this late in the evening," she says to her elder daughter. There is potentially going to be an argument, but the girl happens to catch Ben Hardy's gaze and grin as he listens to a motherly conversation that is quite familiar to him, to everyone. The girl's face goes pink and she clams up and runs over to grab her cousin, whose twin brother rolls his eyes and takes the bowl of fruit from his dad.

"Here, Gram," he says to Veronica. "We brought a fruit jumble."

"Oh, thank you, dear! Now all we need is our stewed vegetable salad put together. How are those zucchini looking, Gwilym?" Veronica inquires.

"Well, they look well and tender," Gwil pokes an edge of one with the spatula he has been using. "Would you like me to take them off the heat?"

"Turn it down a good bit first, there's a good lad," she instructs. "We still have to boil the potatoes, and John needs to check on his chicken. How do the potatoes appear, Ben and Joe?"

Ben jumps a little as Veronica moves close behind him, and she instantly apologises even as he attempts to. "Sorry, we're about done with the last of them now. Here's what we've got, if that's alright...," Something about his manner is reminiscent of her dear John's, many years ago. In fact, these interactions with the boys have brought him the most out of his shell since losing Freddie, and she is impressed by and glad of that. 

Her gentle husband is shuffling behind Joe now to check on the chicken, and Joseph has said something that makes him laugh. Gwilym stands to the side, beaming quietly, and as he dips his head next to John's, long fingers splayed across her husband's right shoulder, Veronica is reminded of how John spoke of Brian, his gentleness and warmth--when he was not getting up-in-arms about the sound of their music. She sees John relax into the touch as Gwil pats his back and rubs it briefly in a circular motion before letting go.

"...I wanted to say, I brought a lager," offers Gwil. "I heard you asking about drinks, Veronica." He leans toward her now, that warmth and politeness shining out from his face, and she has to blink because he really does remind her so strongly of Brian May. How must this feel for John? 

"That's lovely of you, Gwilym," she gets out. "I'm certain that my son Michael in particular will appreciate it."

"Just like Roger would," Ben offers up.

"'Cept he would pour it all over his drum kit, right?" Joe teasingly questioned. 

Ben rolls his eyes with a laugh "Okay, I'm sure he drank SOME OF the beer before doing that, though. Who comes up with an idea like that stone-cold sober?"

"I wouldn't," Rami agrees with Ben, leaning against him as he cuts the last of the apple skins. "Would you say it is...stone-cold crazy?"

Joe lets out a groan and Ben shakes his head as Gwilym raises both arms in the background. "Ah, damn, Rami won this round!"

"'This round' of what?" Laura questions as she stands next to her mother, offering her hand to them all quickly. "I'm Laura, by the way. Hi."

"Hello Laura," the boys chorus and each one shakes her hand. She comes to Joe last, and her lip trembles as she looks at him because she remembers how her father appeared when she was young, and this man is the spitting image, outfit and everything.

"I'm sorry--" she tries to say, wiping her eyes and laughing in an embarrassed way. "--I swore to myself I wouldn't be this type of fan."

"No, it's okay," Joe assures her with an engaging grin. He stands up and gives her a hug. She holds onto him as he assures "It's totally fine."

"Thank you," she chokes, pressing her face into his shoulder for a moment. "I think...you captured my father's heart." Stepping back and trying to smile, Laura looks round at them all. "You all did." 

Ben nods at her and Rami beams with a "Thank you so much. That means the world to us."

"Yes," Gwilym is nodding. "It really does." He pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to her with a soft smile. As she takes it and dabs at her eyes, he adds "...As to your question, the four of us have a bet going. Well, it's more of a game, really, as to who can be the first to reference a Queen song on any given day. And tonight was Rami."

"Ah, 'Stone-Cold Crazy'," Laura understands.

"That's right." Gwil smiles at her again as she hands his handkerchief back.

Joe pouts. "I was sooo close! Should've brought Moet -et chadon instead of champagne and then I would've had it in the _bag!_ "

"Mate, that would be cheating," Ben remonstrated.

"Ugh. Wait, how???"

"You brought champagne?" Laura asks. Joe stops staring incredulously at Ben, who is biting his lower lip in mirth, and nods.

"I didn't see it," Veronica murmurs.

"Yeah, I gave it to John before we came in. Thought he would like it since it was probably Freddie's favourite drink, right?"

"Certainly one of them."

"He put it on the counter next to the oven," informs Gwilym. "Here it is." He holds up the bottle and Veronica takes it gently.

"I will put this somewhere safe." She turns and presses Joe's hand. He squeezes hers back as she looks around at all of them again with her heart in her eyes. "Thank you boys for all of this. So much."

She stops speaking and trembles, chokes on any subsequent words, and instantly the boys want to go to her and help, but Laura is first; she takes her mother's arm and squeezes it gently, murmuring "Go on and put the champagne away, Mum. I'll get to boiling the potatoes." Veronica nods and looks back at them as she bustles away, and Laura blinks and smiles.

"...Is she okay?" Ben asks quietly. Joe's lips are flattening and his expressive eyes telegraph worry.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean--"

"No no, it's fine, she's fine," Laura soothes. "It's just... it's overwhelming, to her, and to all of us, I think. Seeing Dad--well, he's been hurting since I was nine years old." All of the lads are solemn; since ninety one, that must have been-- that was when Freddie died. "And just...now, seeing you all here, and what you've done, the joy you've given him through this film, it's really special. It really does mean the world to us, and we've probably--she has probably told you before. Words don't do it justice, but we do thank you from the bottoms of our hearts." 

Joe's lips are trembling and Rami has tears in his large eyes. Ben rolls his lips and nods, and Gwilym stands behind them all with one hand on Ben's shoulder and the other on Joe's, leaning himself into Rami. "It's a privilege," the tallest says feelingly. "I mean, we love this film, we believed in it from the very start, and everyone who worked on it with us is beyond amazing; but we never thought --never even entertained the idea that not only could it reach John, but that it might help your dad in even a small way. So this is--it is a true honour for us." They are all nodding, Rami sniffing back tears as Ben looks up at Gwil gratefully and Joe bounces. "And we're beyond chuffed that he considers us friends, so. That's great," Gwil laughs and his amazed mirth breaks the tension as Laura beams back at him and all of them before John himself comes around the island to pull out the chicken from where he had been conversing with his grandchildren on the other side of the kitchen. 

John smiles at Gwil as the taller man puts the zucchini and butternut squash in the chicken pan and raises the now-empty pan he seared the veggies in over his head to move past Rami with an almost-pirouette in order to reach the sink and wash it. Laura pulls out a fresh pot to boil the potatoes in, and Ben and Joe carry the cutting board over to slide the spud cubes into the water she fills it with. Veronica comes back to help Rami with the last of the apples, and "Oh! You're making apple crumble!" Cries Gwil. "Me mam always makes that for us come Christmas. You're going to love it, Rami. You too Joe. It's great." 

Ben sighs eyes rolling upward in bliss. "Yeah, Gwil --you are right about that, mate."

"Okay, chicken is done, let's put it in foil for a bit while we wait on potatoes. Who's setting the table tonight?" Veronica levels a stern stare at her four grandchildren. 

The twins sigh and reluctantly admit it is their turn, and the youngest smiles as she runs in to begin pulling out all the chairs. "We have extras! It's a party!" She cries.

"Oh I don't know about that, honey," begins her mum.

"Heck yES it's a party!" Joe shouts, running around the island to join her. "You are speaking my language! I am so ready to help. SO ready." He grins down and offers his hand, which she takes and grabs onto enthusiastically as they run into the dining room.

Ben covers his mouth with a hand to hide his smile and Gwil shakes his head and looks down. "...He gets a little excited," Rami says, voice as soothing as ever. "I hope that won't be a problem for you all."

Veronica and Laura laugh as John looks after Joe's egress with a soft smile. "No, I think it'll be okay."

***

Food is ready now and Ben, Laura, Rami, and Veronica haul the various and sundry dishes into the dining room--apart from the crumble, which must still simmer. John goes over to his wife and she tells him something which makes his face tremble before he nods and disappears for a moment. People are getting drinks and Joe situates chairs as a large man strolls up to him with a glass of beer in hand. 

"So you're the bloke who played Dad," he said. Joe straightens and turns to him with a nod.

"Yes, I am."

"But you're not British," he adds, and Laura hisses from across the table "Michael--!"

"No, no I'm not, but I'd like to think I have a healthy respect," Joe returns easily. Ben, wiping a hand beneath his nose, walks up behind Joe and puts his hands on his shoulders. Joe leans into them.

"He does, and he nailed the accent," Ben says a trifle sharply, as if daring the other to disagree. Joe turns his face a bit to placate him, but then Michael's broad face breaks into a smile. He was clearly messing about.

"He's right, you were brilliant. Gotta shake your hand. Michael Deacon," he introduces himself to Joe, who grins.

"Joe Mazzello. And my watchdog back here is Ben Hardy." 

Michael puts out his hand to shake Ben's hand as well, brows going up and then down again. "He's protective of his mate, gotta respect that." Ben takes the offered hand and then Michael drops it and turns "I also have got to shake the hand of whomever brought this ruddy excellent beer!" He adds.

Gwil, who is being led by the hand to his seat (next to hers) by Michael's youngest niece, lifts his hand with a courteous nod. "That would be me, sir."

"Ahhh, fabulous lager! Just the right amount of head, too." He shakes Gwil's hand across the table. "You are?"

"Gwilym Lee," is the answer. "And I hear you're Michael." 

"Cheers." Mike shakes his hand robustly and then pulls out the chair for his wife to sit, snapping at his daughter snd son to take their places as well. 

Ben reluctantly relinquishes Joe and crosses to sit beside Gwilym, who is next to his new little fan on the other side. The two older girls shove and giggle at each other as they sit just down the table across from beautiful Ben Hardy. Rami sits directly across from Gwil with Joe on his right side, already chatting to John's grandson like they are old friends. Michael's booming laugh echoes round his wife, sister, and her husband as they sit beside him. And then John returns, holding up a fluted champagne glass three-quarters full.

"Okay," he stops at the head of the table. "... I'm not much for speaking, or toasts. But. Well, this is special. And I want to say thank you for coming, to you all." He looks round the room as his wife steps up beside him and squeezes his hand. "Ronnie and I both thank you. This is a celebration...of things I haven't thought could be celebrated, for a long time." He chokes a bit on his words and then pushes on. "But I'm glad, and glad to be here. And I want to toast to someone dear who made this possible." His fingers shake on the stem of the glass, but his voice is soft yet steady. "To Freddie."

"To Freddie," intone everybody.

"...And to Queen," says Rami before they take a drink. Joe is nodding next to him fiercely. "Because this happened because of him, and all of you, John."

"Hear hear," murmur Ben and Gwilym, and Joe whoops. 

John nods grateful and takes a shuddering breath. "...Okay. Yes. To Queen." 

"Queen." 

They all drink, and then there's hustle and bustle as everyone sits because John adds "I'll just dry up now," before placing the glass of champagne in the centre of the table with a soft look of love suffusing his expressive face, and no one wants to intrude upon that.

"Who wants chicken?"

"Me, oh my god," Joe whispers to Rami. "I am _starving._ "

Ben grins at him and Rami does too. "It's coming, mate." 

Gwil's face gets pointed and intent as he bends his lanky arms to cut up chicken for himself and for John's granddaughter beside him. She beams up as he carefully places chicken onto her plate. "You want some squash?" He asks, and she wrinkles her face. "Well, I dunno how good it is, but I'll try it if you try it, how's that?" he puts three pieces on her plate and dumps a spoonful on his own before passing the pan down, as John and Veronica indicated they will serve themselves last.

"Here come the potatoes," Laura calls. 

Joe shakes out his hands as he takes the bowl "Ooh, me and Ben's work," he squeaks and then asks "You want some, Rami?" 

His dear friend nods. "Yes, please. Thank you, Joe." 

As Joe beams and ladles potatoes onto Rami's plate, saying something to him quietly, the light in his eyes and soft smile on his face reminds John of how he spoke to Freddie, when his friend was sitting quietly thinking about a song and asked John for his opinion. It gives him a warm feeling, for once not as painful as it is pleasurable, and John feels himself relax beside Veronica as they pass around the supper.

After some time eating, Michael's son asks "So, did you do any instrumentation in the film? Like, how much of that was actually you lot playing the music?"

The four boys glance at each other. Like father, like son, asking the tough questions. "Uh, not a whole lot," Joe laughs. "But, ah, we had a couple of scenes--"

"There were bits," Gwilym says. "Joe played bass on 'Another One Bites The Dust', for that scene--"

"Yeah," Joe puffs out his lips and nods. "I felt like a badass. I mean--sorry." He recalls there are children at the table and his accent thickens into John's inadvertantly. "I felt...it felt really cool."

"I was really impressed, actually," Gwil says, his voice a la Brian May in automatic response to Joe's. "Because he sort of --he had to get plugged in for that, stop and start playing so he could say his lines. But it turned out really good."

"Yeah, first I was like, oh piss off, we can't layer the sound right; 'specially since me and Fred were having a row, y'know," Ben puts in just like Roger.

Rami leans towards them with a smile. "Oh darlings, don't do that. We were all fabulous together. Starting of course with that funky riff you played, Joe. So while it wasn't too much of us playing alone, it was amazing."

The rest of the table has gone silent as they speak, and all four look up to see various states of shock and awe; and then faces are all swiveling towards John, who has let out an unintentional cry somewhere between a sob and a laugh. And it hits them with an icy blow--they had automatically gone into character. 

Joe realises this and his eyes bulge, and Ben puts a hand to his mouth as Rami shifts, self-conscious. But it is Gwil who is sitting the closest and has the longest reach, who puts out one arm to John and utters "Oh, John, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, we--we didn't realise that we were doing the voices. It... It's become a habit, I suppose." He looks frantically over to Ben beside him, and the blond man squeezes Gwilym's nearer thigh in his own dawning terror as much as for reassurance.

Veronica looks to comfort John, but he sniffles and wipes one hand down over his cheeks. "No," he says. "... There's no need to apologise, Gwil. It was a --bit of a shock, of course, but these are happy tears." Wobbly he smiles and briskly pats Gwilym's still-extended hand, looking at each of the four anxious men in turn. "I promise."

"...Well, now we know for sure just how well Joe here does your accent, Dad," Michael cracks. "AND we know he can play bass!"

"Can't play bass all that well, I promise," Joe returns, inordinately thankful to Michael for lightening the mood. How grateful and astounded he is that he is able --that all four of them are-- to provide John with happiness. It is something that Joseph Mazzello knows he will forever cherish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love domestic Veronica and John! I just had to say something about it because I think they're so cute :)
> 
> I'm afraid I don't know about the Deacon grandkids other than there are four of them so I am running with that. Also please excuse any phrasing that is a bit hinky, I am doing my best to research British food and its preparation. Specifically desserts because I am a dessert freak, like honestly I love it
> 
> *And I know that Cam has a gig today = Joe Mazzello mentioned that Cameron Deacon does music like his father, so I figured that means he is in a band. Wonder if he plays bass? Anyhow this information will be applicable later on...
> 
> *The comrades-in-arms comment is Gwilym's oblique reference to the fact that Rami and Joe acted in The Pacific HBO TV series together, and apparently did not stop talking about it. Like ever, haha
> 
> Comments welcome :)


	5. Chapter 5

After supper, the group moves to the greatroom for coffee and drinks (and to wait til it is time for dessert, of course) as Veronica shuts up a box of leftovers for Cameron to eat when he comes in. 

Gwilym and Ben offer to help her with the dishes, Ben because "I didn't do anything much to prepare the food, chopping taters isn't that taxing," and Gwilym because he had already washed one pan before supper so he is prepared to continue doing so, he asserts.

Michael's daughter and Laura's eldest bring in the plates and utensils to be washed, giddy every time they meet eyes with Ben or when he takes a plate and says "Thank you." When his fingers brush against theirs (unintentionally, of course; in the movement of taking plates) it is all over; there are shrieks and then instantly fleeing.

Gwilym grins over at his friend as this happens, his jumper sleeves pushed up to bunch above his knobbly elbows as he fills one side of the sink with suds. "The life of a heartbreaker, eh? Guess you really ARE like Roger Taylor in some ways, mate. You got it where it counts, though?" He teases.

"Oh, sod off," Ben mutters, reaching into the water and flipping up droplets to splash Gwil. "Wash that grin off your face." His ears go a little red, however, so despite rhe discomfiture Gwilym knows he is pleased by the comparison.

Gwil rolls his eyes. "It must be such a HARD life," he says.

Ben looks up at him as Gwil hands over a just-washed plate for him to dry. "Everyone ogling me? Yeah, it's a long hard fight," Ben says, biting his lower lip as he rubs the cloth across the plate surface. "But I've got you lot to keep me humble."

"Except for Joe," Gwilym is quick to respond with a smile. 

"Right," Ben says with a tiny chuckle. "He thinks I'm sooo pretty. Think it's a bit of a joke, really; and it's just progressed so far now that I let it happen."

"You totally encourage him, don't deny it." Gwil playfully nudges Ben's shoulder as he hands him another plate.

Ben huffs out a breath and his shoulders slump. "...Yes, I do. I have. Because... it's easier, coming from him. The praise is, I mean, because he _knows_ me." Ben looks down and scrubs the plate furiously. He hasn't admitted this before. What the squealing and all the comments on his looks do to him. "I mean, it's flattering to be seen as pretty, or attractive, or whatever, but it's also like...a fantasy to people, I think. Like, me, for example: I'm seen from a distance. In a picture or a film or on the red carpet somewhere. People don't know about my chain smoking or my snide commentary or the fact that I can't start a bloody conversation to save my life." He does glance at Gwilym now, and sees those kind eyes trained steadily on his face, listening and full of compassion. He blinks. "It's just that you guys DO know, so I'll take the compliments --and the teasing-- because it's, they're _real_." He sniffs now and puts the plate on the counter beside him, feeling his hands shaking. He hadn't meant to say all that; oh god, what if it doesn't make any sense, or Gwil gets offended? Or if he says something--

But suddenly Ben feels a cool wet shock on his arm and neck, and Gwil's damp hands are pulling him in against that lovely soft jumper of his. He holds Ben securely against his body, one arm around the shorter man's shoulders and the other going up from the back of his neck to stroke his hair. "Ben, mate, it's alright. I understand."

Ben's arms go around Gwil's waist instantly as he sags into the hug and tears of gratitude prick his eyes as he buries his face against Gwilym's lean chest. Good ol' Gwil. Should have known he would understand what Ben meant; he can always see into the heart of matters. It makes Ben feel safe and cared for and truly seen.

***

Joe and Rami sit with John on the greatroom couch, his youngest granddaughter curled up in his lap. He had brought the glass of champagne in to the room with them, and it now rests on the closed lid of the piano.

"...Do you play, John?" Rami inquires quietly.

John, who had been stroking back his granddaughter's hair, looks over as his hand stills. "I'm sorry?" 

Rami lifts his glass to indicate the piano, tilting his head forward, luminous gaze locked on the instrument with interest. "Oh, I was just wondering if you play the piano at all, still."

"You learned the electric keyboard, right?" Joe asks.

John nods, impressed. These men certainly know their stuff. "Yes, I did. Freddie didn't like the electric sound, he thought a piano ought to be... classical, is the term, I suppose. He refused to play it any other way, so I learned how to. But no, not really; this sort of music isn't my forte. None of it is anymore, really. Veronica learned to play from her mother, so she used this one to teach the kids. It actually used to be her mother's, I think. If I remember right." He chuckles. "It's all so long ago, now. Things just kind of float around up here, and I remember little-- just bits and pieces out of nowhere." He waves one hand briefly in the air. "It's erm. It's interesting, definitely."

"I'm sorry, we don't have to reminisce if you don't want to," Rami reassures hurriedly. "Right, Joe?"

"Mmph." Joe had been thinking about asking John --well, a bit about the group, but Rami is right. They don't want to make him uncomfortable, of course. "Right, I mean, it's probably still hard for you. But you do have us," he adds before he can help himself. "...And Roger and Brian, they still care."

Rami has frozen and it appears John has too, for a moment. Joe presses his hands flat together between his knees and shuffles his shoulders. Shoot. Shouldn't've said that. Way to go, Joe.

But John surprises him by letting out a little sigh and a nod. "Well, yes, I suppose so. They have let me alone for this long because I asked them to."

"Would you ever want them to ...not?" Joe asks now, slightly squeaking. Rami glances sharply at him and he clears his throat before speaking again. "I mean, if, maybe one day you're remembering stuff from the past, and want to see them again. Or talk to them. Do you think you'd ever want to do that?"

"I... don't know," John admits honestly after a moment, drawing out his response slow as his forehead wrinkles and his eyebrows draw together. "I don't know that they would want to see _ME._ I don't think we parted ways the best of friends twenty-odd years ago."

Rami is nodding, and so is Joe. Folding his lips over his teeth for a moment, empathetic sorrow shining in his eyes, Rami murmurs "...That must be still so hard. I genuinely believe they care about you, though. I never got the sense of anything but respect when they talk about you."

John's lips tremble, and Joe adds "Well, uh, Roger cursed, but he does that a lot anyway so I don't think it was a reflection on you."

John laughs a little. "Right. Roger could definitely be a mouther. When he and Freddie were together, well ...Brian and I have been shocked a few times." He recalls Brian's dumbstruck face after one particular comment that had been made--so many options, really. Roger had teased Bri relentlessly, saying he wasn't, couldn't possibly be an astrophysicist, he was just a skinny baby if he didn't know that! 

Michael guffaws from his spot across the room with his wife where they had been trying to get the older kids to play Parcheesi or some such. His voice jolts John back from the swirling miasma of his memories, and then there is a knock on the back door and Cameron's voice floats into the house: "Is anybody still here?"

"Of course we are, love," Veronica comes to help him haul himself and his equipment through the door. 

Michael comes up alongside her and roughs up Cameron's hair. "Heeeey there baby brother!" He enthuses. 

Cameron rolls his eyes and swats at Mike's hand. "I told you to quit calling me that, I'm an adult."

"Never to me!" Michael gives him a tight hug and a noogie that makes Cameron sigh and then his face brightens as he ducks under his much-older brother's arm to get a hug from his sister.

"Hey Laura," he says and whispers "Save me!"

"Sorry Cammie, don't know that I can," she smiles. "THEY might be able to, though." Nodding to the side, Cameron turn his head to see Joe Mazzello grinning at him from where he has stood up next to the couch, and hang on, is that Rami Malek?? What is this? 

Slowly turning back to look at Laura, Cameron asks her "What's going on?" He offers his closer arm, holding onto his bass with the other. "...Pinch me." She obliges. "Ow! Not that hard, Laura!"

"Oh, stop whining. You wanted me to do it, but this isn't a dream. Mum and Dad invited them. Also Ben and Gwilym--" they have finished washing and drying the dishes by now, and Ben shyly pokes his head through the kitchen door into the hall where Cameron and his sister are standing. Gwil waves and asks if anyone wants more beer before noticing the newcomer and walking over to shake hands and say hello.

"Gwilym Lee. It's great to meet you. You're the one who met with Joe and helped him act like your father, right?"

Cameron nods. "I guess...?"

"Well, thank you," Gwil says, grinning. "Without you I doubt his part would've been bearable."

"Oh come on!" Joe protests now as he walks up. "I can't believe you would say that about me, Gwilly! I am wounded." Gwil gives him a peck on the head as Joe beams at Cameron and shakes his hand. "Cameron, it's wonderful to see you again."

"Y-you too," Cam sputters. "I still don't quite believe this."

"Us either," Joe says. "but it's happening, and it's awesome. I heard you had a gig? Here, lemme help you with that bass." 

Cameron blinks and lets his case go, baffled by the sight of Joe Mazzello basically being his roadie. "Erm, it was good. Great, actually."

Joe looks up at him when he places the bass down out of the way and shoots him a soft smile. "That's good, glad to hear it," he says.

"But I am also starving," the youngest Deacon adds, and Joe brightens.

"Now that feeling I com _plete_ ly understand, my friend. C'mon."

Veronica has already gotten Cameron's box of food out to heat up for him as Joe goes with him into the kitchen. Cam shakes hands with Ben at the door as the blond is still leaning there, trying to move and to stay out of the way.

Veronica pulls out a chair and pats it, inviting her youngest to sit down. She gives him a kiss on the cheek and he smiles. Joe is standing, grinning, still thinking about that bass....

"You know you wanna play it, buddy," Ben murmurs, sidling up to lean against Joe. He jerks his head and blond locks fall across his face, which makes him run his fingers through his hair to push it down. "Go on and ask him."

"No," Joe looks at the floor for once bashful. "I don't want to assault anyone's ears."

"I'LL do it!" Gwilym calls. "Cameron, Joe here wants to try out your bass."

Joe's eyes bulge. "What? No, I--Gwil I hate you so much." Gwilym's eyes are dancing as he beams triumphantly.

Cameron, mouth already full of chicken, waves enthusiastically at the spot where Joe put his instrument case down. Swallowing his bite he says "Yeah, yeah, go for it, Joe. Play something."

"Oh my god," Joe groans. "This is like a nightmare. We will be having a conversation later," he sticks a finger in Gwil's face as the tall man smiles, beatific, like this isn't the most balls-out scariest thing Joe has ever been asked to do --or bullied, rather-- into doing. "I haven't played bass since the movie! Okay. Uhh." Laura brings the instrument to him and he strums its strings once, twice, palms sweating. "...if you're expecting greatness, I'm done," he warns them.

Ben sighs loudly and lifts his eyes to the sky. "Oh for the love of rock 'n roll, mate, just PLAY something!"

"Fine!" Joe closes his eyes and breathes, tapping his foot as he strums a beat: _bum bum bum ba-ba BUM bum, bum bum bum ba-ba BUM bum --_

"Pressure!" Rami skids into the kitchen as he hears those familiar notes. Despite the fact they never sang them in the film, everybody knows this song. "Pushing down on me, pressing down on you, no one has fault." Joe opens his eyes and grins in thanks; Rami, at least, has his back. Thank goodness for that.

His squinty gaze bores into Gwilym and Ben, who look at each other before joining in: "Under pressure! Burns a building down, splits a family in two; puts people on streets."

"Ee-dah-dah-deh, ee-dah-dah-deh, dee-deh-doh, that's okay!" Rami is bumbling and blushing but he hits the notes --roughly-- and Joe bangs the heel of his hand against the bass to keep rhythm. He looks up and spies John, his face creased, listening intently from a spot halfway behind the door, and he hopes this is not upsetting to him. But as Joe's fingers fumble John puts out a hand and gives him a thumbs up, jerking towards the ceiling as if to say keep going, you've got this.

So Joe does his best--well, screechiest--David Bowie impression and the Deacon family is bopping to the beat, some joining in singing, and everybody takes an enormous breath to try and hold it through "'Cause love's such an old fashioned word and it dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves--this is our last dance! This is ourselves, under pressure." 

John's face falls at those words, and he thinks about Joe's earlier comments. How long has he got left to reach out to his erstwhile bandmates? And if he did, what would it be like? Would it be worth it, so long later, when he still misses Freddie so fiercely? ...But why can't we give love one more chance? He asks himself ruefully, lips twitching at the irony. How appropriate playing this particular song was. Well done Joe.

At the end of the song, Cameron whistles. "Wow, I've never had a supper serenade before! I feel really special."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Joe implement his plan now that he's talking to John? Who knows...
> 
> *"I mean, it's flattering to be seen as pretty, or attractive, or whatever ..." = I want to say that I am not trying to make anyone feel bad for findng Ben Hardy pretty. I think he's rather easy on the eyes myself, but I also think squealing and ogling and saying he's a snack, etc... Well, not that it's precisely disrespectful but it would not be condoned by many if he were female. And I can imagine that it might become rather wearing. Especially for someone who seems shy, as Ben does to me. I think he handles his heartthrob status incredibly well :P however I imagine it would be a relief for him to have people, like Rami and Gwil and Joe, who know him and see him for who he is, both on and beneath the surface. 
> 
> Anyway. I'm big on inner beauty which might explain where this came from, but honestly Gwil and Ben just started talking and I rolled with it, so do let me know what you think.
> 
> *So Joe does his best--well, screechiest--David Bowie impression = basically I was thinking about Joe's beautiful and ridiculous wailing as Prince singing 'Purple Rain' so, imagine that but with a ridiculous British accent as well. You're welcome :P
> 
> Comments appreciated and welcome <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe explains his plan and Gwil has to get others onboard. He did not sign up for this. None of them did.
> 
> But where there's a Gwil...

After that impromtu serenade, the party begins winding down. Cameron had come in incredibly late, after all, and the dessert had finished setting hours ago. More than one grandchild has nodded off, and so the boys offer to take themselves home with the apple crumble that Veronica presses upon them. There are handshakes and hugs and profuse thank-you's as well as whispers for Joe not to be TOO mad at Gwilym for making him play, he had done great. 

And then John said as he walked Joe to the door, the others a bit ahead of him, "...I've started thinking about what you said earlier about seeing the... the band again." His gentle gaze finds and holds Joe's as he utters "...and--it might not be a bad idea. If I knew how."

Joe swallows, and tries so hard not to scream as he squeezes John's hand and says "Well if you want me to, I can help you uh, orchestrate." Holy shit holy shit holy _shit_ this is happening. This is not a drill, Captain Mazzello. All hands on deck! "Just--just let me know, if you want, or don't want, that's--either way is fine!" He has let go of John and is strolling backwards towards Ben's car, beaming. He is on cloud nine. "That's fine! You have a great night, John." 

Ben and Gwilym are staring at Joe and then at one another, Ben smirks and then shrugs as Gwil shakes his head. Rami holds open the back door for Joe and they wave to John as he has re-entered his door before all four get in the car. "Right, Joe," Gwilym turns almost all the way around in his seat as Ben starts the vehicle and begins pulling out. "What in the name of all that's holy was that about?"

"Uhh..." Joe looks around and sees Rami watching him along with Gwilym. He laughs awkwardly. "Well, I was thinking that maybe--"

"Joe had the bright idea to try and orchestrate a meeting between John and Roger and Brian," Ben blurts out as he turns the steering wheel hand over hand to head down a side street. "Sorry mate," his eyes rise to catch Joe's in the rearview mirror. "Figured I ought to get it out."

Joe nods. "That's fair. I'm freaking out, because John said yes!! Well I mean he said he might want to meet up, but doesn't know how to do it. That's something, though, right?" He beams round at all three of them in excitement.

Gwil glances from Ben to Rami and back to Joe. "...You knew about this?" He asks.

"Joe told me," Ben says. "Well, he asked for my help with it."

Rami dips his head. "I kind of figured it out when Joe asked a few questions of John earlier this evening."

Joe nods at him, eyes alight with pride. "I figured you would get it from that, buddy."

"Right. Well I think we ought to get some ice cream and go to the room to eat this apple crumble and talk this out a bit more," Gwil suggests.

"You just want to eat the crumble don'tcha, mate?" Ben glances sideways at Gwilym with a twinkle in his eye.

"Hah, no, I mean--I wouldn't say no to that, but I do think we ought to talk about it."

"Figure out how best to help, yeah?"

"Right, exactly."

"That's a great idea, I'm in," Rami offers. Ben agrees and Joe grins.

***

The four end up in Gwilym's hotel room, passing around a pint of vanilla ice cream. "You guys are so _boring,_ " Joe whines. "Why couldn't we get something like, I don't know, Rocky Road, or--"

"Rocky Road with an apple crumble? Blasphemy!" Geil makes a face and Rami rubs his index finger down one cheek, pursing his lips together for a moment.

"Ah, I don't know much about the nuances of eating apple crumble, but I think I'll defer to Gwil's expertise on this. There's nothing wrong with classic vanilla."

" _Thank_ you, Rami." Gwilym dips his chin grandly in vindication and Rami touches their spoons together with a smile. Joe rolls his eyes and shakes his head with an enormous sigh. 

"So boring."

Ben clears his throat and bites his lower lip, leaning down to reach into the bag he had brought from the store. Joe figured he'd gotten some booze or smokes or something like that whilst Gwil paid for the ice cream. But Ben now hauls out a container of --lo and behold-- Rocky Road. "...Saw you staring at it drooling as we went by," he cracks.

Joe stares from the pint to Ben and whispers "Benjamin Hardy, I love you." His voice rises to a squawk as he dives onto the blond, pulling him into an exuberant tackle-hug. "Marry me!"

Ben loses all of his air with an _oof_ as Joe slams into him and sends them both sprawling backwards onto the bed. He hauls in a breath and coughs. "Let him up," Gwil says, smiling. "Well, Benny, if you want to get hitched, Rami and I can witness. Right Rahm?" He asks.

Rami nods. "Oh, absolutely. The things we do --everybody needs somebody to love." His eyes twinkle with satisfied mirth and there is a chorus of groans.

"Oh, DAMN it!" Gwil yells 

"That's my favourite song, too!" Joe pouts.

"Rami's schooled us in two rounds now, chaps--you've got to step up your game." Ben lifts his messy head and leans on his elbows. His blond locks are sticking out in all directions from being flattened into the mattress by Joe.

Gwilym crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really? WE do? What about your input, mate?" 

Joe has risen to a sitting position now as well, holding tight to his Rocky Road with one hand and gracing them all with a quizzical glance. "I had no idea you guys were so competitive," he says.

Smoothly Ben sits all the way upright and slings his nearer arm around Joe's shoulders, leaning in to rest their cheeks against each other. "Well, I've already got my somebody, Gwilym."

"...That was smooth as shit," Joe whispers. "I'm super impressed." Gwil's mouth drops open as Rami giggles. "All right all right," Mazzello waves both hands wildly about his head. "--let's start talking shop here. We want to help John get back in touch with Brian and Roger, right? That's our goal."

"Right." Rami leans forward, facial expression intent as he laces the tips of his fingers together, fully focused. "...And you asked John about this, to which he said that he'd like to get back in touch with them, yes?" Rami glances sideways as Gwil gently nudges him and offers a slice of apple crumble, which he accepts with a soft "thank you."

"Yep," Joe is bouncing in place as he digs into the carton of Rocky Road, devouring a marshmallow. "He said, about getting in touch with the band he would like to but doesn't know how. I figured I could sorta be his... mediator, y'know, talk this out with him. See how he's feeling and when he wants to meet and stuff." Swallowing the rest of his bite Joe adds in a rush: "--And then Gwilym can tell Brian all about what we decided."

Gwil is handing the plate of crumble across to Ben and nearly drops it. "Wait, what?! Why me?" 

Ben catches the crumble and squeezes Gwil's hands with compassion. "Are you serious?" Joe asks, pointing his spoon at Gwilym. "You and Bri are tight--you're, like, the same person."

"You _are_ Brian May," agrees Rami. "But I'll help you broach the subject if you want me to." He leans into Gwil's side, giving him a pat. "Especially because--"

"Roger," they all say at the same time.

"Brian will probably be easier to bring on board, I should think."

"And you _have_ got the most solid rapport with him, Gwil."

Gwilym sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Yes, all right. You're right, I suppose." He offers up some crumble to Joe, who shakes his head and lifts up his carton of ice cream. Gwil takes a bite, chews, and swallows before jabbing his utensil into the air with emphasis. "But we let John make the actual first move on this, yeah? I don't want to tell Bri that John wants to meet unless he gives a definite 'yes'. I couldn't-- I don't want to get his hopes up, not unless we're sure."

"Absolutely," Rami is nodding. "We don't want to be responsible for breaking up the band again." He tries to speak gently and keep things light with a little joke, even though none of this is a joke. They are all incredibly aware of that. So much still is --and remains-- at stake.

Joe's lips start to tremble at the sheer magnitude of all of this. "He--uhm. Could you--should we let Brian know that it would do John good to see them? That--what he said to me was he wants to reach out but doesn't know how?" Oh please he cannot bear to screw this up.

But the other three are nodding. Ben squeezes Joe's arm and looks to Gwilym, who says "Yeah. Yes, I think that could work, Joe." He reaches out and pats Joe on the knee. "I'll get in touch with Brian tomorrow. That way he will know what's going on, and we can give all three of them as much time as they need to figure out when, where, and IF they want to meet." Gwilym looks from each one of his mates to the others. "...Sound good?"

"I like it," Rami confirms.

"Yeah," Ben nods. "Ball's on their pitch, then." 

All three turn to Joe, who gulps. "I don't think this decision should be left up to me, guys. I uh, I feel a little sick about it all, honestly." He gulps again and the now-empty pint of ice cream drops from his nerveless fingers.

Ben grabs it with a huge intake of breath as he realises something. "That's the lactose, mate," he tells Joe.

Joe groans. "What are you talking about, Ben? I don't know if you're grasping how serious this is! If I--"

"No, no, mate. Lactose. There's lactose in ice cream." He lifts up the pint in front of Joe.

Rami's eyes bulge. "Oh my god, Joe--I didn't think about you being lactose intolerant!"

Gwil shakes his head in confusion. "What? Oh my god, you idiot." He realises what they are talking about and groans.

Joe grins, well, more like he grimaces, face a bit pale. "You're right, Gwil. I feel pretty stupid right now."

"Stop that, Joe. Do you have your medication?" Rami leaps up and grabs onto his buddy's shoulders. "Do you have your Lactaid pills with you?"

"Uhh, yeah I should--if I do they're in my jacket pocket." Rami goes over to the chair on which they all tossed their coats. "But if not...,"

"If not we're running down to the all-night pharmacy, mate," Ben puts in. "We can't have you vomiting or anything now that your plan's a go. And besides if you're sleeping at my flat I'm not standing to have you up in the loo all night. Has he got his pills, Rami?" The blond glances over and Rami, after rifling through all of Joe's coat pockets, shakes his head. 

"Well it's been nice knowing you guys," Joe quips. "You can just leave me to die in peace now."

Gwilym stands up and grabs his coat. "Alright, what does he need? Lactaid, right? It's in a box?" Gwil flips up his coat collar and grabs his wallet and keys. "I'll be right back. Don't move a muscle--can't have our master band-reunion orchestrator confined in a bathroom, can we?" He nods at them all. "But we've got this handled, yeah? All of it." In his face and voice is the plea for their plan with Queen to work. 

Both Ben and Rami nod to him.

"Yes."

"Of course."

"Oh, yeah--oh my god, stomach cramp!" Joe groans and curls in on himself as he tries to give Gwil some reassurance and comfort. Gwilym rubs a hand over Joe's hair and hustles out of the hotel room and the building itself, down and out to the nearest all-night pharmacy. He can do this.

They can all do this. At least, he hopes so. Gwilym believes they will; and procuring such belief is half the battle.

Isn't it?

***

Gwilym returns with the box of digestive relief and Joe takes two pills from it and swallows them dry, swaying a bit with exhaustion and embarrassment. It has been a long and exciting night, and of course he had to end it by being an absolute idiot. Gwil simply smiles at him and pats his shoulder, however, and Rami gives him a tight hug. 

Ben picks up his jacket along with Joe's. "Alright, I think we all ought to get some rest," he utters quietly, prodding Joe in the back. "C'mon with me and say goodnight, Joe."

"G' night, Irene," Joe says. Ben's eyebrows draw together.

"Is he-- is he delirious? What's in those Lactaid pills, Gwil?" Gwilym picks up the box. 

"No, I'm fine, I promise," Joe chuckles. "It's just a saying. 'good night Irene, good night Irene, I'll see you in my dreams'. You guys don't have that in Britain?" Rami is laughing as both Gwil and Ben remain nonplussed. "Ah well. Never mind, night then. See you tomorrow, and lemme know how it goes with Brian when it does." Joe reaches out and squeezes Gwilym's shoulder as the taller man swallows. 

"...I will. And let us know whatever John says."

Joe nods at him and pats his arm with a bright grin. "You got it, Gwilly. Ohh." He winces and staggers, both Gwilym and Ben reaching out to steady him. "These cramps are still kicking my butt. Hope the meds will start working soon. Thanks guys."

Gwilym nods and pats Joe's lower back which he had grasped to steady him. "No worries, Joey. Happy to help."

"Even when I'm an idiot?"

"You aren't an idiot," Ben wraps Joe's jacket around his shoulders and holds onto them. "You just get excited. I should've said something."

"Benny, you did."

"I know, but I should have done beFORE you ate that entire bloody pint--"

"---And ruin my entire night?" Joe teasingly nudges the blond. "C'mon, lighten up, Ben! I'm fine, really." His last words are overtaken by an expansive yawn.

"That's our cue," Rami begins shooing Joe and Ben towards the door as he picks up the empty ice cream cartons to help Gwil clear out the mess. "Good night, darlings! Sweet dreams. See you in the morning, Gwil." He looks back at the man whose room this is with a soft smile. "If you want to talk or you need anything, you know where my room is."

"I do," Gwilym smiles gratefully. "Thanks Rami. Bye lads." 

"Bye!" Joe beams and waves as Ben shakes hands with Gwil.

"Thanks for sharing the crumble with us, mate. I know how much you wanted to eat all of it yourself."

Widening his eyes dramatically and squeezing Ben's hand, Gwil responds "Oh trust me, Ben, you have NO idea." Ben laughs as Gwilym walks them to the door and waves goodnight one more time before closing the door behind them.

"Rami," Ben turns to offer him a handshake as well. "Always a pleasure."

Latching on with warm fingers and giving Ben's digits a bracing squeeze, Rami says "The pleasure is mine, Ben. Always." He pulls Ben into a tight hug that is returned and then briskly pats him on the shoulder. "Take care of Joe."

Ben nods and ducks his face a bit as he flashes a gentle smile. "I always do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I heard that Joe Mazzello is lactose intolerant but I also feel like he'd enjoy ice cream. If he has his pills to take, of course...
> 
> The "good night, Irene" phrase is something my own grandfather always said to me. I wanted to include the start of it. The rest of the little ditty is a bit...raunchy, shall we say, haha
> 
> Comments welcomed


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is worrying, and Gwilym makes a phone call

In the harsh cold light of day, John Deacon worries that he has been too hasty.

Hasty after thinking on the questions Joe Mazzello asked of him so briefly, if he would ever consider seeing Brian and Roger again. He does, but it has been so long, and there is so much feeling remaining, if not strengthened even as he had tried so hard to deal with it or bury it or let it go.

Hurt, mostly; and there is grief of course, still so much-- but there is also fury and resentment and fear, and the white-hot shame that tears at his insides as a result of the fact that he still feels those other emotions. John's emotions are a mess. He knows this.

He feels himself shaking and his mind is whirling as he goes into the kitchen for coffee. Veronica is often up before him in the morning and has put the pot on, but not today; he is the first one awake. He gets a new filter for the machine and throws out the old grounds before pouring a new bunch of beans into the grinder. The grating sound that stops and starts and spits is somehow soothing in its repetitive monotony as John breathes in the heady coffee scent and then adds water to the mixture that he pours into the machine.

The contents begin to bubble as he walks away to sit at the kitchen table and then stands again. He cannot bear to just...be sitting down, idle, doing nothing. So he goes out to the front of the house for the paper, and the chill of the misty morning air hits his bare legs and curls around his arms and neck and torso. He hadn't thought to put on a coat; well done, John.

But he slides his feet into a pair of worn old boots that rest beside the door and goes onto the creaky wooden porch, hearing the innocent tweet of birdsong rising from the dew-filled trees. Brian would know instantly what sort of bird that was, he thinks, and if ever -- whenever they speak again, John could ask him. He closes his eyes and chuckles at himself and at the ludicrous nature of that thought before shuffling off the porch and down his drive to pick up his newspaper.

He sees a flash across the way and instantly his stomach clenches and his heart begins to hammer, thinking of a camera flash or a phone; what if someone had seen the boys coming or going to his place last night and put together where he lives? 

John's hands slip against the clear plastic sack containing his newsprint and he stumbles back to see a car come round the bend and pass by, its mirrors catching the light and tires letting out the hiss and rumble of rubber against damp road. John does not catch a breath until the vehicle passes completely. Its driver lifts one hand in a wave, and he stands frozen numbly until he registers the fact that the car is his neighbor's down the street. They hop out with a passenger alongside them after pulling into their drive. The front door of that house opens and his neighbor's spouse piles out, voice echoing in excitement as cases and boxes are taken out of the backseat. A reunion. 

A lump comes to John's throat as he sees the strength of the hug his neighbor's wife bequeaths, and his neighbor's obvious and apparent warmth as he picks up bags and claps his visitor on the shoulder. And suddenly in his mind's eye that visitor is Brian, or Roger, coming to see John and to stay. John cannot stop the heaving sob that exits his mouth and he quickly turns and almost runs back into his house. Longing sweeps over him and makes him feel as though he is drowning and weak, so incredibly weak; and yet he wishes that were true so badly that he can hardly breathe with the wanting. It does not matter how hurt or angry or grief-stricken he has been; he wants to see them. He needs to try.

Covering his mouth with a trembling hand, John goes to the coffee pot and pours himself a cup. He sits at the table now and then rises and goes to the phone. It is late morning now, and other people should be up. John pauses as he reaches for the phone but then steels himself, because he knows that if he doesn't do this now, he will lose his nerve. 

Peering at the list of newly-gotten numbers that Veronica keeps beside the phone, John keys one in. He hears it ringing and then a jovial voice emanates out of the receiver. "Hello?"

John swallows hard and clears his throat, breathing deeply. "Hello, Joe? This is John Deacon. I hope I'm not calling too early in the morning, but I...I wanted to talk to you some more about getting back in touch with the band. Do you think-- you might be able to help me with that?"

***

Gwilym Lee cannot sleep. After cleaning the utensils and putting empty containers in the bins after his friends leave, Gwil washes his face and brushes his teeth, staring into the mirror as he thinks about what he's going to do. 

He is going to talk to Brian May about the fact that John Deacon wants to get back in touch, potentially. Holy Lord. Gwil splashes water over his face and lets it drip through his beard and off the tip of his nose before picking up and blotting his face dry with a hand towel.

Who is he to do this? Sure, he has gotten to know Brian pretty well, and that is the most amazing thing, he cannot believe it even now; still has to pinch himself sometimes. This relationship is precious. But honestly who is he to suggest a meeting between friends who had chosen of their own volition to part ways so long ago?

Gwil sighs heavily and roughs up his hair before he pulls off his jumper and slacks to hang in the closet. Standing in undershorts and naught else he turns out the bathroom light because he cannot deal with the sight of his own eyes staring at him; searching, questioning, condemning. He can only do what he has been asked to do by the lads, his friends who believe in him; and he has to remember that the only reason he is doing this is to help. He just wants to help, and hopefully Brian will understand that.

Gwil closes the door of the loo and shuffles to the bed, onto which he flings his long body and rolls himself up in all its blankets until he looks like a king-sized bed burrito. Waiting for his mind to stop whirling and his heart to cease pounding, he takes deep breaths and tries to fall asleep, humming to desperately try and convince himself: _I know what I'm doin' and I should be doin' all right...._

Gwilym wakes abruptly out of a restless sleep on the following morning, arms flung out and sweat coating his chest and back, soaking the blankets around him that he had flung and kicked away from himself sometime during the night. Flashes and scraps of dark, foreboding dreams disperse from out his mind, catching at the corners and making Gwil shiver. He finds that he could use some company and rolls over to grab his phone off the nightstand, fumbling at the keys to type a text to Rami, asking if he is awake. The phone chimes back at him before he even has the chance to set it back down. Rami answers with an affirmation and a question as to whether or not he wants to get breakfast. Gwil closes his eyes and then his finger touches the 'Call' button.

Rami's warm voice fills his head instantly before even a single ring: "Good morning, Gwilym. How are you?"

Gwil clears his throat and tries to smile, to infuse his words with calmness. "I'm... I'm okay, Rami. And we can definitely get breakfast in a bit, but. Would you mind--could you come to my room, please? I want to call Brian, to get this done, but I just need..."

Rami responds "Of course, Gwil. I will be right over." Gwilym hears his friend moving about the room and then a door is opening and there is shuffling. Less than a minute later a knock sounds on his door, and Rami's voice says over the call: "I'm here."

Gwilym flings the blankets off his legs and strides to the door, pulling it open as he ends the call and sees Rami's large eyes locked on his face. Gwil's lean chest heaves as his friend steps forward instantly, not minding the obvious sweat or anything else, and gathers the taller man into a hug that he tightens the second Gwil hugs him back. 

Gwilym feels his legs shaking as he presses his face into Rami's hair and breathes to steady himself. He feels foolish, and starts to apologise, but the shorter man's soft hair brushes against his lips and chin as Rami shakes his head. "This is a difficult moment for you, Gwilym, and it's a heavy thing to ask of you--of anyone--to reach out to Brian about John." He pulls back and looks up into Gwilym's face soulfully. "I'm sorry we put this on you, to talk to him. It's got to be nerve-racking."

"...I couldn't sleep, really," Gwil confesses. Rami nods and drops his hands as the other runs a hand through his hair. "But I want to do it, Rami. I want to help them, and get them back together, if that's what they want to do. I just wondered if you'd mind sitting in here with me when I do call. Just for--support, or. It's probably silly," he stops as Rami shakes his head.

"No, it's absolutely not silly at all, and yes, of course I'll stay here with you during the call. I don't mind a bit, Gwil." He smiles a little. "Though I also don't think taking a shower would be a bad idea for you first-- to wake you up and make you feel better."

Shower. Yes. "Right." Gwilym goes and fishes round for clothes, looking over at Rami gratefully as his buddy sits on the chair next to the window. "Thank you, Rami, really." Gwil speaks with a warmth and sincerity that lends to his voice an ache. How generous and lovely Rami is, a decent human being whose humility and grace allows him to see and know what people need and to help them without a second thought. He deserves all of the goodness in the world for he himself is so very good. 

Gwil doesn't articulate any of this verbally, but his eyes nevertheless speak volumes as they hold Rami's gaze, and then he goes into the loo to shower and dress and ready himself for an important conversation with Brian May.

After a shower and a shave Gwil is dressed and prepared. He cannot sit down, and so paces back and forth as he dials Brian's number and listens to the dial tone. Rami notes the tension tightening his friend's shoulders as he waits, listening.

Then the warm gentle voice in surprised tones: "Gwil! How lovely to get a call from you this morning. How are you doing? How's things?"

"I'm--doing pretty well, Brian. Thanks." Gwil coughs a bit and adds "Rami and I have been together doing interviews, and we've seen the other lads."

"Splendid, splendid. I'm so happy for you boys, this praise for the movie is really lovely, and you deserve every bit of it," enthuses Brian. "Roger and I couldn't be any prouder. Honestly."

Couldn't be any prouder. Oh, god. He hopes that pride won't be negated by what he has to say next. "That's, wow. That means the world to me, Brian. To all of us. Erm, this is really special and I'm really happy that we've gotten to share even a miniscule bit of yours and Freddie's legacy, so thank you. Honestly. It's--it's hard to put into words what this means." And what I've got to say to you....

"Ah, that's all right," Brian says now. "We're more than happy to share, Rogie and I."

Gwilym gulps. "Speaking of sharing...," He says, going over to the table next to Rami now, knuckles white as he grasps the edge of the wood. Rami looks up and leans into his side to provide support. Here goes. "Do you remember giving Joe the name of-- Cameron Deacon?"

"John's youngest son? Yes I do," Brian returns easily. "They met each other, right?"

"Yes, they did, and he was great," Gwil feels his palms sweating. Here it is. "...And then, after the film came out, he got in touch with Joe again, and he, Joe--got to meet John."

There is silence then on the line, except for Brian's breathing. Gwil feels as if he might pass out. "Well that's lovely," Brian spoke at last. "John orchestrated that? Or Cameron did, I suppose, to keep Deacy out of the spotlight."

"Yes, Joe said Cameron did it, told him where to go. And then one night we were driving--Joe, Rami, and myself--and we found John and his wife getting chased by some horrible people calling themselves fans, so we, we, helped them out of that, I guess."

"You rescued them," there seems to be a smile in Brian's voice now, alongside an undercurrent of...something. "Well I'll be damned."

Encouraged by that, Gwilym blurts out: "Yeah, and it was great, he was so nice about it, and now Ben's met him too-- and he talked with Joe, and said that he... He'd like to get in touch with you two again, you and Roger, only he doesn't know how."

There is a slight hitch of sound, almost like a sob, or maybe feedback, and then Brian's voice trembles: "...He said he'd like to speak to us, to get in touch? _John?_ " there is a hiss, almost a whispered sound, but it may as well have been a scream. "Are you absolutely sure about this, Gwilym?"

Gwil hesitates. This is what he had worried about; how to make Brian believe but not get his hopes up too high. "Yes. I know he wants to reach out, he talked to Joe about it last night--"

"--And this morning," Rami says, looking at his phone. Gwil glances swiftly down at him and his friend catches his gaze. "Joe just texted me and says John asked for his help in setting up a meeting if Brian and Roger are okay with that."

Gwilym wants to let out a whoop but doesn't; he has to keep this calm. "Right, so, apparently Joe talked to John this morning as well, and... he wants to set up a meeting or something, if you are alright with that, Brian." Gwil clenches his hand and Rami reaches up and grabs it. They are hanging onto each other for dear life, unable to breathe or even blink.

And then the fateful words: "I'll talk to Roger about this. It's certainly unexpected," comes Brian's voice. It sounds as if he is trying incredibly hard to remain calm as well, which comforts Gwilym. At least in freaking out about this he is not alone. But then Brian's voice cracks and he adds "Gwil--"

Gwilym's heart skips a beat. "Yes, Brian?"

"...Thank you. I don't know what you did, or what Joe said, but bless him. Bless you all for it. Whatever happens and whatever Rog says, this is--this is wonderful. It's a wonderful thing to hear, and I want you to know that." He sounds as though he is choking up, which makes tears spring into Gwilym's eyes as well.

His voice is thick and choked as he croaks "it's my, it's our genuine pleasure."

"I... I've got to talk to Roger now," Bri's voice rises, seeming flustered but also as though he's taking charge. "I--I will call you back. This is important, but I will. Is that alright?"

"Okay, yeah." Gwilym is stunned. This is really, actually _happening_. "Whatever you need, Brian."

Bri's voice is harsh almost as he whispers "Thank you." And all the emotions of the past twenty plus years are in those words.

"Of course. Cheers, Bri."

"Ta for now, Gwilym."

They both hang up the phone and Gwil looks down at his and Rami's intertwined fingers and shaking hands. _"What in the bloody hell is HAPPENING??"_ he thunders.

Weakly, Rami grins, his face flushed and eyes sparking with utter profound dumbstruck joy and disbelief. "...I would say that uh, I guess this means that Plan Mazzello is officially underway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! Brian has appeared! And Joe talked to John, so the plan is in motion! Fasten your seatbelts, loves, this is HAPPENING!!!! There will certainly be a to-do next chapter...
> 
> Comments welcome :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between two members of the band
> 
> There is going to be some serious angst and a lot of swearing here, just so you know. Also WARNING for mention of/reference to previous suicidal thoughts

"What's going on, Brian?"

Roger Taylor has always been able to tell when something is going on with Brian May, ever since the beginning. He always thought he was so serious and full of mystery, the giant brainy astrophysicist with the fantastic guitar skills. But he could never hide anything from Rog. Certainly not today, when he comes in here with his hands shaking and his eyes alight. Can't even make the attempt to hide behind that thick black hair anymore; first off, it's grey, and second, he hasn't straightened it as he did all those years ago at Uni so Roger can see every bit of expression in his light eyes.

"Who was that on the phone?"

It could have been their manager, Miami was always calling with some new ruddy figures about ticket sales or movie sales or something like that. Interviews and more interview requests. Roger grins and bears it as best he can, but he cannot stop thinking and remembering how much Freddie absolutely hated interviews. 

Brian looks down at his phone as if he has to check and make certain it is still there, and his eyes are soft with an expression Roger has not seen in a long while. "That was Gwilym on the line," he says gently. "Rog, he told me--" Brian sucks in a breath and locks eyes with his friend but goes silent.

Roger lets out an impatient sound of exasperation. "Well, out with it. What did he say that has you in such a state? Spit it out, Bri!"

Brian's voice wobbles a bit but steadies as he settles his shoulders and says "He told me that he and the boys-- they've been in touch with John, Roger. And Deacy says he wants to see us again. That it would do him good."

There is silence. Absolute, dead silence.

And then "For fucks' sake," Roger spits. "I can't fucking believe him! Of ALL the bloody _NERVE!_ "

Brian instantly moves to placate his friend. "Roger--"

The drummer explodes. "No, Brian, shut up, alright? John LEFT, he freaked out after losing Freddie, and I get that, but we _all_ lost Freddie! All of us! No one hurt worse or less--you almost offed yourself, for God's sake, and I couldn't even pick up a bloody drumstick for more than a year! But oh, he 'maybe' wants to meet up with us? It would do him good? He needs to NOW?? What in the--what kind of shitty request is that to make of us? It's utter bollocks, Brian!" There are tears shining in Roger's eyes now, making them appear like fractured sapphires, but the tears have yet to fall. His voice cracks as he finishes, sounding small, destroyed, helpless. "... First we lost Freddie, and then we had to go and lose John too. He doesn't _talk_ to us anymore, mate. Why would--what's changed his mind now after all this time?" Roger sucks in a heavy breath and demands "--Is he dying? Because fuck that, if he's dying. I can't fucking go through that sort of shit again."

Brian lifts his shoulders, looking helpless himself as his grey curls fall and settle against his shirt collar. "I'm not sure. I really don't think that he is, but the reason this happened now, well... I think it has everything to do with Joe Mazzello. Gwil was the one to call and tell me, but I get the feeling that Joe orchestrated this somehow." Roger covers his face with his hands and sighs. Brian puts a hand on his shoulder. "Rogie, he wants to help us."

Fingers muffling his voice, Roger nods, hating to admit this... "I know, Brian. I know he does." He lowers one hand and curls it into a fist. "It just isn't his ruddy business OR place, the pipsqueak--"

"Roger." Brian's fingers tighten and his voice takes on a warning tone. "You oughtn't say such things about Joe; I rather think he's uniquely qualified to offer us his help." Roger whirls away as Brian almost pleads, voice tearing as he speaks thus, feeling his heart crack as he does: "...We don't have to do it, you know. We don't have to see him again." How many times in a life is one's heart able to heal itself after breaking? Or are there no healed hearts, only pieces gathered together in the hollowness of one's chest cavity? Brian would suspect the latter, because why else would his still hurt so much?

"...I know," Roger returns again, dropping his other hand away from his face and sighing. He turns back and his sharp blue gaze finds Brian's-- as the bristles of his white beard tremble, and so does his chin. "But damn it, I miss John," that high voice says. He cannot lie to Brian. Not after everything. He owes him the truth. "Much as--almost as much as I miss Fred." Roger lets out a keening wail. Doesn't Brian see? "But he LEFT. Of his own accord he left us. Freddie didn't have a choice! He would've stayed forever if he could!" Dearest Freddie.

Brian's hands tremble as he steps close to Roger, and his eyes are full of tears as his ever-gentle voice wobbles. "...I miss him too, and I can't help thinking to this day that I should've taken better care of Fred. If I had, he would still be with us. And then John would be too."

Roger's eyes go wide and he yanks Brian closer and lifts his friend's chin so he will look into his eyes and be forced to face Rog directly. "What the fuck--are you mad, Brian? What the bloody hell were you gonna do, chain him to a bed in his hotel room? Fred would've probably enjoyed that, honestly," the drummer adds with cheek, relishing the fact that he can still make Brian blush after all these years. He reaches up and grasps the tall man's shoulders, thankful to feel some meat on them. He is exorbitantly grateful and glad every time he touches Brian now and feels solid evidence under his hands that his friend is no longer so painfully skinny. No; now he is simply in pain.

Severely, Roger remonstrates: "Brian. You can't look at it like that, mate. You think you didn't do enough for Fred? Think you could've kept him here, safe? Bollocks. Freddie was Freddie, and he lived his life the way he wanted to, without apologies. None of us could've kept him down, and we wouldn't-- I know that you wouldn't, because you loved him. And he loved you, Bri. So very much." Roger's voice is cracking and Brian has begun to tremble. The shorter man licks his lips and continues: "He told me once, that every time he wrote new music, he thought about what you'd say about it. He wanted-- he always wanted to make you proud." Brian lets out a sob and Roger pulls him into a hug, rubbing his back as he cries. "There. There, now."

"I still love him, so much," Brian chokes out, arms holding tight to his friend. "...And I still miss him, every day."

Roger's white head nods next to his curls. "I know, mate. I do too."

Brian's arms tighten around Roger. "Then oh, Rogie, what are we doing? We ought at least try to TALK to John-- he's been feeling all this grief as well, and he's had to do it, deal with it all alone."

"And whose fault is that, Brian?" Roger asks nastily, but as Brian tenses and attempts to move away, he growls "Oh no you don't," and hauls him back in. "I've missed these bloody hugs. And you can't get mad at me for speaking the truth, alright?" Roger sighs and deflates a little. "I'm just... I'm blowing off some steam, is all."

"About twenty-five years' worth, eh?" Brian inquires gently in a teasing tone. He holds onto Roger tighter, breathing his near presence in. "I've missed our hugs too, you know," he admits. "We don't have them nearly so often anymore."

"Well, you can't turn back the clock, you can't turn back the tide," Roger quips. He feels Brian's body shake and relax with quiet chuckles as he barks out a laugh as well, patting the other's shoulder before letting him go. Bri's long fingers still grasp his sides, and Roger recalls the final verses of that song. He had written them so many years ago as an ode to Freddie. And perhaps to remind himself of what was most important: _Those days are all gone now but one thing's still true--I look, and I find, I still love you. I still love you._

Oh, bollocks.

With a heavy, lengthy sigh, Roger adds "... All right. I can--I will meet with John if he wants. Doesn't mean I'm not going to start swearing at him, but. ...If he really wants to talk to us, I will be there." And damn me for doing so, for giving in; but I know I've got to. If for no other reason than because Brian has asked it of him.

Brian May squeezes his dear friend thankfully. Roger is forever loyal, despite his vehement rage. Perhaps BECAUSE of that vehement rage. He cares so very much, and Brian loves that about him-- has done ever since they met and began playing together in 1969, the very beginning. And even when they cannot agree he knows Roger will always be there. "That's, this is excellent, Rog. Truly. I'll let the boys know."

"Right then." Roger steps back as Brian relinquishes his hold on him completely and as he rubs a hand across his short spikes of hair, the drummer grumbles "... Don't make me regret this, please."

Brian chuckles and wipes his eyes as he takes out his phone to call Gwil back before Roger has the chance to change his mind. "Let's hope that neither one of us regrets it," Bri shrugs. "... I'm not completely certain about doing this either, you know. But we ought to at the very least give it a try, I think." He wants so badly to try. And he really does long to see John again.

Roger harrumphs, remaining unimpressed. "Wonderful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freaking adore Rog and Brian, and I have noticed that Roger seems to be/get angry in interviews at times. I think he carries a lot of residual anger over losing Freddie, and I imagine that anger would explode all over everything in a situation like this. Dear Rog. But he is so incredibly loyal as well that I imagine John's absence really hurts him. They were so close to one another, after all.  
> And oh, Brian. Sweet melancholy Bri, you have been through so much. Every time I see an interview where he talks about losing Freddie or mentions that he ought to have taken better care of him, it shatters my heart. He loves and misses him so much still. They both do, as much as John. Dear men, still grieving and bearing the absence of a very dear friend after all this time. How brave they all are.
> 
> Comments welcome <3


	9. Chapter 9

_"... I'll talk to Roger."_

Gwilym Lee cannot fathom what is happening. He immediately understood where Joe's idea to get Bri, Rog, and John back together had come from--dear excitable enormous-hearted man that Joe is; but Gwil never honestly expected for any words of his own to make an impact when he spoke to Brian. Certainly not enough of one to exhort the guitarist to talk to his bandmate about the idea! 

Because, honestly, what does Gwil know about it? None of the lads had been around during Queen's heyday; oh how he wishes they could have been, that would've been AMAZING --and Gwil can only barely imagine how he would feel to lose one of the members of his own band. They had become one--he, Rami, Joe, and Ben--through all of Bohemian Rhapsody's filmic trials and eventual staggering glory. They had held onto each other and huddled together and really FELT something that they all feel still, something that Gwil cannot imagine losing or being taken away.

It had been hard enough when one of Gwil's mates lost a member of his family. When Joe's father died--buoyant, always-smiling, happy Joe who had seemed so put-together, so strong from the very beginning--well, watching his grief and being by had been bloody heartbreaking. It is a miracle, really, how strong and steady Joe truly IS, given how long he has been in the acting business. Gwilym and the boys can only rag on him for having been a child star in jest, however, because "He's astoundingly well-adjusted," Ben had quipped laughingly early on during the film shoot. "...For an idiot."

But Ben is not laughing anymore, as clearly the fact that Joe is so well-adjusted has been an incredible boon through everything that has happened. And while dealing with his own grief, Joe conceived of a plan attempting to help Brian, Roger, and John deal with theirs. 

Gwilym remains baffled and is practically hyperventilating with nerves as he waits to see and hear whether or not Brian is going to call him back. He knows this is mad; he feels as if he is GOING mad--forget slightly, he is going utterly completely bonkers waiting.

But Rami believes: "In the spirit of Freddie Mercury, anything is possible as long as we believe in ourselves, darlings!" (Mostly he is trying to keep himself and Gwilym calm after the conversation Gwil had with Brian.)

Joe and Ben text to see if Rami and Gwil want to get some food with them. 

"I can't--I don't think I'll be able to stomach anything until ...if Brian calls back," responds Gwilym a trifle wildly. Rami replies to Joe, or is in the midst of doing so, and Ben, sensible quiet Ben, advises Gwil to breathe. 

Gwil does his best, but nearly jumps out of his skin as his cellphone rings. 

It's Brian. "...Hello?" Gwil gulps. "Hi, Brian. Er." He doesn't have a clue what to say; how on Earth can he ask if Brian has spoken to Roger, and then....

"We're in, Gwil. Roger and I will meet with John, when he wants to. I'm happy to, and, well, you know how Rog is." Brian chuckles. "He's a spitfire, y'know. It's going to take him some doing to completely accept and be on board with this."

In the background Gwil hears Roger's irascible voice call "You're fucking RIGHT I'm not bloody on board. You're lucky that I-- Sod off, Brian!" He adds as Brian lets out a sigh and inhales as though he is about to say something but thinks better of it.

Gwil sucks in a huge breath as Brian clears his throat and adds "Erm. Well. It's going to be interesting, that's for certain. When and where are we... does John want to meet?"

"Oh, honestly I don't think ...I dunno that anyone's figured that out yet." Gwil's voice is cracking all over the place with disbelief and nerves. "We--honestly I didn't expect you to say yes. I mean, none of us were certain, of course;" he rushes to explain "--it isn't that we thought anything, we just--"

"No, no, don't worry yourself, Gwil," Brian soothes. "I understand. S'a bit of a messy situation, innit?"

Letting out another enormous breath and a creaky chuckle, Gwil agrees. "It's... certainly a strange thing." I can't bloody believe it.

"Yes," Brian returns. Serious, he adds "But I want to thank you boys for caring about us enough to go through with suggesting it. Means a lot, a great deal, truly."

"Oh trust me, it was all Joe," Gwilym says. "I mean, of course we supported him and this as much as we could, as we can--" c'mon, Gwil, honestly what are you doing?

But Brian lets out another chuckle, gentle and accepting. "I understand, truly, I do. But I do thank you, Gwil--all of you."

Gwilym puts a hand to his chest, feeling a painful mix of joy and appreciation and relief filling him up from top to toe. There is no better man than Brian May. Gwil's voice trembles a bit as he puts every bit of himself into saying "You're more than welcome, Brian. It's a privilege to be able to help you in even a small way."

"Oh, that's alright," Bri says.

They promise to get in touch with one another as soon as John gives a date and time and place, or the suggestion of one, for the members of Queen to meet, and the instant after Gwil says goodbye to Brian and hangs up his phone, his eyes are bulging and he is squeaking as he flops flat onto his bed, gazing incredulously at Rami "Oh my _god--!_ "

Rami just exits his chair and falls onto the bed beside Gwil with a giggle. Gwil reaches out to him and grasps Rami's forearms to anchor himself, eyes wide and amazed and still somewhat panicked, but mostly shocked. Rami squeezes the muscles of Gwilym's arms and then slides into his chest to give him a stabilizing hug. Gwilym swallows and presses his chin against Rami's shoulder, his dark forelock falling into his light eyes as he breathes and hiccoughs, feeling his panic ebbing away.

"You okay, Gwil?" Rami asks.

"I thought I was going to have a heart attack, Rami," Gwilym gasps out. He tips his head to look into his friend's face, feeling his heartbeat starting to slow. "But yes, I'm keeping myself alive, and Brian and Roger are doing this, so I'm okay."

Rami leans his forehead against Gwilym's chest and smiles. "Good. I'm glad."

The two friends remain locked together in an embrace until there is a loud banging on the door.

"Oi!" A familiar husky voice calls.

Another voice, deepened for effect, calls out "FBI, open up!"

Gwilym and Rami look at each other with matching grins. "Joe," they say at the same time, and rise. Gwilym moves from off his bed to pull open his room door, revealing Joe Mazzello crouched in a ridiculous pose a la a cop show drug bust with Ben standing behind him shaking with laughter, his round cheeks even rounder in mirth and his eyes sparkling.

"Hey, buddy," Ben says to Gwil, stepping forward and looking him over before putting a supportive hand on his shoulder. "You alright? Joe, get up, mate."

Joe pouts. "Aw c'mon Benny, you're supposed to be my fresh-faced doe eyed partner who gets flirted with by all the ladies and gents and whoever, and I'm the hard beat cop who's seen...hell." His voice goes into a dramatic growl as Ben rolls his eyes. 

"You're such a dolt. You know I wouldn't be talking to anyone. You would be the person bloody _chatting_ while I solved every case."

"Ooh, salty. Well you know I'd be the one filling out all our paperwork, baby!" Joe laughs as he stands at last and pats Ben on his lower back. 

Rami is laughing now also as he stands in the doorway next to Gwilym.

"Are you lads done?" Gwil grins at them. "Because a, I think we have something to celebrate, and b I'm certain Joe at least is starving."

"Especially since he texted me six times about getting food," Rami says, gleefully exposing him.

"Hey, I figured that you guys needed some motivation," Joe retorts.

"I don't think sending a list of all the food items you intend to devour in capital letters gets the point across completely, Joe," Rami cracks, and then he giggles. "I mean, particularly when you sent 'I NEED MEAT. GLORIOUS MEAT' to me."

"Oh sorry that was actually meant for Ben," Joe quips instantly and Gwil starts laughing so hard he almost falls to the floor and out of Ben's grasp, as the blond has been holding onto his shoulders to physically check whether or not he is okay.

Ben closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly, lips moving soundlessly. "... Please, let's just go for breakfast," he utters at last.

"You betcha," Gwil smiles and thanks Ben for his concern, assuring him things are all good now as he grabs his wallet and shoes from out of his room before they go.

***

Roger and Brian want to meet John on neutral territory, that is what the four BoRhap boys find out and discuss over breakfast--someplace Deacy will be willing to come to, but not where he would necessarily feel the absolute most comfortable.

"Let him sweat," Roger told Brian. "We have." Brian disagreed, and the two bicker back and forth for several days about it. The boys try to come up with suggestions.

Finally Joe is exhorted to suggest to John (prompted by Ben, who has been in awe of the place since even before the film, but learning more about it for the movie had only deepened said awe) Rockfield Studios. "It's about three hours' drive from London," Ben says. "Give or take."

Joe snorts. "Right, Ben. Because John is totally going to want to drive in a car that long for a meeting that he's probably at least slightly dreading. And he's gonna want to do it for, I don't know, symmetry or something? Why do you think they should meet there again?"

Ben runs one hand through his hair. "I dunno, Joe. It's--it's just, that is such a historic place, I mean, they wrote and recorded masterpieces in this drafty old--basically it was a barn, and it was the height of their togetherness, their strength as a band. I dunno. It _means_ something, I think. Don't you think so?" His blue-green gaze sweeps round to hold all of the lads' eyes, ending on Joe's. "If I'm alone on this, I'll drop it, but..."

"No, mate, I think you have something there," Gwilym reaches out and grips Ben's closer arm. The blond looks at him gratefully and they glance across to where Rami is sitting. It's like they're together onset again, for how often the four men are still meeting to talk about Queen, bouncing ideas off each other and giving one another support. Gwil hopes this closeness will never fade so long as they all live. "What d'you think, Rami?"

Rami's expression is thoughtful as he taps a finger to his cheek. "I think...well, let's ask John about it, first. If he is okay with driving out of London to a meeting-place, because that will tell us if he'd be willing to go, and then we can suggest the name to him." His luminous eyes flicker over to study Joe. "What do _you_ think, Joe?"

Mazzello sighs as all three of his friends now turn to him. He spreads his fingers and moves his hands about as he says "Fine, there's no problem asking him, I guess. I just -- don't want him to get overwhelmed. You know what I mean? We're so _close_ on this, to making this work! I don't want to screw it up."

"I know. But he won't be overwhelmed, mate," Ben's husky voice is rougher than usual as he tries to comfort Joe. "Not with you. You're the best at asking him stuff and suggesting things; you aren't gonna force anything on him. You won't screw this up."

"I'm sure he knows that you won't force anything," Gwil agrees, nodding. "You're always so careful and respectful of John, I think he really appreciates it. If I were him, I know I would."

"Exactly," Rami beams at his friend and reaches over, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "You've got this, Joe."

Joe does not have the words, for once, to articulate what his friends' belief in him means, but he smiles round at them all, lips trembling briefly in emotion. "I think we should... See if we can tell the people in charge of Rockfield that this is a little trip, last hurrah as we move on from the film? Maybe, because if John says okay, we don't want anyone hearing about him coming, you know?"

Gwil is nodding. "Right, exactly. We don't need anyone swarming round the place, hearing about this meeting." He makes a decision. "If John gives the okay and once we tell Brian, I'll call the studio and get us a quiet or secluded space or whatever."

"Mate, the whole THING is secluded," Ben teases.

Gwil flaps a hand at him "You know what I mean, Ben."

"I do, and it's noble of you to think of this and offer to call about it," Ben tells him quietly. "Cheers, mate." Gwilym's face goes soft and he leans in, giving Ben a sweet kiss on the cheek as thanks. Ben blinks and smiles.

"How'd you like that, Joe?" Grins Gwil over at him with mischievous pride in himself.

Joe humphs. "That is an international disgrace. You should be ashamed of yourselves! I'm going to leave to call John since you two have betrayed me." He rises from their table and clasps Rami's arm. The other smiles up at him. "I just want to thank you, Rami, for your loyalty. This is why you are my BEST friend." He squints across the table at Gwil and Ben, who are both chuckling at this point, though Ben's leaned forward as though a trifle worried as well.

"Right, mate. Isn't he your best friend because you've known him since The Pacific?" Gwilym asks.

Joe sticks out his tongue and retorts "I'm not speaking to you." Shaking his head at Ben's begging eyes he adds "Not you either, you traitor. I thought we HAD something, Ben! Something special! Don't give up on us." His voice goes into one of his typical dramatic screeches and Ben kneels on the booth bench beside their table in supplication. 

Joe turns slowly away, lifting his gaze with a flounce and a sigh, like some sort of disgruntled Regency lady, and moves to call John from a quieter place. He cannot stop the smile tugging at his lips however. Well done to the boys for making him less nervous about this portion of their plan, at least. And now he has ammunition to tease Gwilly and Ben with for _days._

Joe calls John and automatically smiles to hear his calm gentle tone of voice over the line: "John Deacon speaking."

"Hi John, it's Joe. How are ya?"

"Hello Joe. Well. Erm. I'm rather hoping this meeting happens soon, actually. It's a bit...tough to deal with, the waiting. I would like to get on with things." 

Joe hears the other man swallow, and he knows that the anxiety produced by waiting can seem infinitely worse than getting it over with. "I get that, yeah. Uh the boys and I were wondering if you would mind having the meeting outside of London?" He rubs a hand across the back of his neck in brief, bouncing a bit on his feet, hoping against hope that John won't mind.

The older man's voice is steady and quiet. Thank goodness for that. "...Okay. Where are you thinking?"

"Uh, it's--in Monmou, Monmooth, um. The place you guys recorded, where we were for part of the movie. Rockfield Studios." Joe squeezes his eyes shut and clenches one fist, hoping, praying that John won't clam up or say this is insanity, that he's out, didn't sign up for this shit, Joe.

There is a pregnant pause wherein Joe starts to sweat, and clears his throat, and says "But listen, that's just one option, okay? And it's completely up to you, I--"

"...Will you be there?" John asks.

Joe blinks hard and forces himself to stop babbling. "Pardon?"

"Will you be going to this meeting, you and the other boys?"

"Oh, uh, we-- we thought we might, that is, if you'd like us to," Joe's voice is a little squeaky. 

"I'd like you to," John replies. "That is, if you'd like. I think it would be of help."

Joe feels his heart swell with an overwhelming surge of empathy and compassion, and he feels honoured that John would ask him. That the presences of Joe and the lads will help him is--amazing. It means so much. "Then of course we can, of course," Joe enthuses. "I, well, I'm sure Gwil won't mind the drive. Do you want to take the, uh, tube, or-- or ride with us?"

John's tone is surprised. "...You wouldn't mind me riding with you?"

Joe lets out a relieved laugh, glad his suggestion had not fallen flat. "No, not at all--me and Benny and Rami can all fit in the back, let you be the navigator. If you want to, of course. And if you want to head back early or something, that'd be no trouble too. I'm sure there's a way to catch you a cab or train back to London, if, uh...." _If things don't go so well,_ Joe thinks but does not want to say that aloud. Positive vibes, come on. Gotta send out some good energy. He almost misses John's response.

"Then yes, that would be fine. I can be prepared to meet this--Saturday? Yes. Does that work for you all?"

"It will," Joe beams. _We'll make it work._ "This is gonna be awesome, I'll see you then!"

John lets out a little chuckle. The excited nature of this young man is infectious, and reminds him in a wonderful way of both Roger and Freddie. "See you on Saturday, Joe."

"Bye!" After hanging up his phone, Joe runs back over to the table, earlier fit of pique forgotten completely as he gasps out "We're on, fellas! And Gwilly, John's gonna need to ride with us to Rockfield Farms in your car."

For the second time that day, Gwilym Lee nearly suffers heart failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"That is an international disgrace" = I had to include part of Joe's comment from beneath an Instagram post Gwil made a couple of days ago because I thought it was hilarious. I love the way these men interact with one another so much
> 
> Aaaaah I'm freaking out, darlings- the meeting is SO CLOSE! Next chapter!!! \•o•/  
> I'm trying to come up with the best way to write this reunion, and it's a bit nerve-racking, so thank you all so much for sticking with me <3 You beautiful people are truly champions of the world.
> 
> Please do let me know what you think :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming together

A driving force towards an immovable object. That is what the road to this reunion feels like, though inexorable it most certainly is not; for a quarter of a century this course of action was not even conceived by any of the parties involved.

Gwil had called the people at Rockfield as he said that he would, and they had promised the group would not be disturbed once they arrive: "And it's not like we'll actually be recording or anything," Gwil says. "We're just meeting in the western barn, y'know, the big one with the piano that Freddie played 'Love Of My Life' on the first time in the film? Figured we could use -make- a positive scene happen in that room since last shot we had was of Paul being a--"

"--Bloody wanker," grumbles Ben in a tone and with a facial expression worthy of Roger.

"That way we can walk round outside too," Gwilym adds quickly. "Be out of the way so we aren't tempted to listen in at keyholes. Joe." He deliberately turns to the shorter man, who blinks.

"What? Okay, guys, for real I am flipping OUT right now over my crazy idea, so if I started listening at the keyhole while we're there, I may as well just end it all because I'll be dying anyway."

Gwil rolls his eyes. "So dramatic," he huffs.

"We'll watch out for you, mate," Ben assures.

"Of course we will," Rami adds warmly.

"Well I AM an actor," Joe returns breezily, grinning at them all. "Drama comes with the territory."

Drama had also come from Roger when Rockfield was suggested to Brian, given as the place John had agreed to. "Are you _joking?_ " Rog had shouted. "They're taking the bloody piss, aren't they?" They have to be, there is no way in which John would be willing to meet; certainly not _there,_ out of all the ruddy places possible.... A snarl of disappointment nearly closes Roger's throat. "I knew it, I fucking knew it--"

"Roger, just shut up a moment," Brian says sternly. Roger does so, reluctantly, and Bri finds out the day, time, and area where they have been requested to meet. "Okay. Thanks, Gwil. It looks like we're doing this, yeah? Ta til then." He hangs up his phone and, on the day itself, levels a stare at his best friend. "Roger, I am begging you to please PLEASE behave," Brian entreats.

Roger sighs with barely-contained ire, or irritation, at the very least. "...Fine. For you, Brian. But when we do actually see John--"

"I know, I know, all bets are off," Brian sighs heavily. "Just--try not to break anything, will you?"

They head out to their car together, Roger shooting Brian a devilish grin.

"No promises."

"I dunno what sort of reply I expected," Bri mutters in fond resignation as they get in the vehicle and head off.

***

The smoggy air grows clearer in increments the farther they drive from London, and John stares out the window enthralled. He feels himself relax an infinitesimal amount. They are really doing this, and perhaps it will not be so very bad; after all these years of silence, he really ought to speak to his friends again. However hard, however cruel and bitter grief has been to him. He is doing this.

"...How about some music?" Gwilym gently inquires after quite a bit of time, glancing over to John riding shotgun. "Would you like control of the radio? Here." He turns it on and says as the screen on the console lights up, "Just press these buttons here, here, or here if you want one of my preset channels, or twist the knob for anything else." He smiles, those bright blue eyes kind and encouraging and gentle, and so John presses the second preset button after a moment with only a slight bit of timidity.

And whose voice should blossom out of the speakers but Freddie's: _"Caaaaaan anybody find me somebody to-ooh, love?"_

"YES!" Joe whoops out a cheer from the backseat. Loudly, of course. "This is my all-time favourite Queen song!"

"We know, Joe," the other three lads chorus in unison.

"...It was Freddie's favourite as well," John says softly. With tears in his eyes, he turns up the volume and basks in the wondrous voice of his old friend, gone far too soon but never ever forgotten.

He smiles as he hears the boys singing along and when Ben yells "Take it, Freddie!" John feels his heart soar as he recalls playing in a show, hearing the roar of the crowd --he'd practically felt it in his BONES; it was in Montreal, he thinks; early eighties--and recalls Fred in his absolute element beaming from behind the piano and telling them all, let's do it, as he started off this glorious song. It was his mentality throughout life, really; Freddie was always searching for somebody to love and he loved so fully, so completely. John thinks of that, and with the song and the love and appreciation in this vehicle, love fills him up and runs through him like a soothing river from his head down to his toes.

They stop for snacks off the A40 and make it to Rockfield just before noon. Luckily, as it is Saturday the dinner-hour rush is a bit after twelve, so there aren't too many cars on the roads of Monmouth itself. Which also helps keep their arrival discreet; it would not do for prying eyes to witness this reunion, or risk all of John's careful privacy going up in smoke. Gwil parks round in a back lot at Rockfield, and he and Ben go in to say they've arrived, leaving Rami and Joe to wait with John in the car until he is ready to go inside.

Joe is bouncing up and down in his seat, rubbing his hands together and shaking them out. John sits still, breathing slowly with his eyes closed, and Rami leans forward and puts a hand around his upper arm, giving it a squeeze. "Whatever happens, you have got this, John my darling," He says in his gentlest Freddie voice. John smiles. Swallowing hard, Rami adds in his own accent "...I really don't know whether or not this is my place; probably not, but. I want to say that I --that we're all so proud of you for doing this. And the fact that we four could help you, in any small way, with our movie, with our friendship, it's... it means so much. Truly, it does. All of this, it's been probably one of the best experiences, if not THE greatest experience of my life." He smacks his lips a bit and pats John's arm. "So thank you."

He is about to lift his hand away and retreat in some self-consciousness, honestly, because however much more comfortable Rami has gotten inside his own skin, there remains insecurity. Perhaps he has said too much, or not enough...but his worries and doubts are assuaged when John blinks and unbuckles his seat-belt, turning to Rami and taking his hand as the younger man draws it back. John's gentle eyes are locked on Rami's with gratitude and love, and he squeezes the actor's hand. "Thank you, Rami," John whispers. He looks at Joe, who is sucking back tears of his own, and reaches out his other hand to him. "Thank you, Joe. I...need to thank Ben and Gwil as well. But. It is good to have you lads here with me today." He squeezes their hands, and both men squeeze back before he settles his shoulders and lets go. "Okay," John Deacon blinks and prepares himself, and suddenly Gwil is tapping at the door and asking if they're ready.

"Got the key to the big barn, mate," Ben says, lifting and shaking it back and forth a bit. He glances at Gwil and then through the back passenger window at Joe and Rami, who are both wiping their eyes. "Are...are we all good? Ready to do this?" He asks, unsure.

Joe breathes and Rami looks at John, who nods back at him and opens the door, eyes crinkling in a smile. Gwil steps back to allow him space for egress, and John exits the vehicle to stand on the grassy knoll that overlooks the farming fields and buildings, listening to birds and smelling that faint scent of ammonia-- chicken manure, probably, that he recalls from Queen's time here. Suddenly it is 1974 again and they are set to record _A Night At The Opera_. Brian is checking over his guitar and all of their instruments religiously, as much of a perfectionist as always; and there's Freddie next to him whispering _'look at those lovely clouds, darling. One can get inspired here.'_ One can get lonely here, John had also thought, and then Roger had come up and hugged them both round the back and said they ought to head into the bloody place and hurry up, too, because these fucking chickens won't leave him be, keep pecking at his bloody boots! _'Must sense a kindred spirit, Rog,'_ John had teased, and Freddie's subsequent raucous peal of laughter startled both Brian and the chickens.

The memory hits him like a train and John almost stumbles with the force of it. But the BoRhap lads are here with him now, and they wait til he is ready to go into the drafty old barn with its ridiculous chandelier up at the centre of such a high ceiling that its light couldn't possibly reach the entire cavernous room; surely, John thought someone would have rewired the electrical system and fixed that since the seventies, but apparently not. It is just as frustrating and endearing; _'Hm. Interesting, light lends atmosphere,'_ he remembers Brian softly saying, and Roger muttering about _'yeah, it'll ruin my bloody eyes even MORE, this atmosphere'_. John chuckles to himself as he thinks of that whilst crossing the floor, its boards creaking a little under his boots. His laughter dies as he takes notice of the piano, and the boys ask if he needs anything. John shakes his head and swallows, thanking them once again and wishing they had stayed, that he had asked them to do so the instant all four turn and carefully close the door, leaving him to it. He traces his fingers across the piano and takes a deep but shaky breath. Here we go.

***

Brian and Roger show on time to the place where they are to meet John. Well, they are on time as in, the time Roger said he would be there: "We can be bloody late if we want, Fred always did it." But they pull up in a side lot, and see Gwil's car; and all four of the lads are there standing outside waiting for them. Rami's gentle presence, Joe's chaotic energy; Ben exudes that quiet shy solemnity of his as he shakes Roger's hand and Gwilym is as sweet as ever as he gives Brian a big hug.

The boys take them to the barn that they've been allowed to unlock, and stop next to the door so Bri and Roger can go in. Alone.

"We'll be out here if you, er... if you need anything," says Gwilym.

"Of course, yes," Rami adds. "Anything at all."

"Good luck," says Joe, voice squeaking just a bit as he glances sideways at Roger, who has not looked at him yet. Great.

"...Go get 'em," Ben bumbles out, and hates himself for saying that instantaneously. But Brian smiles at him and pats them all on the shoulder as he passes by. Good ol' Bri. Roger's head is lowered and he looks like he's about to throw hands with someone, but at least he shook Ben's hand first upon seeing him after coming up to them. That's a...good sign, the boys hope. There also did not seem to be any easily-tossable objects inside the barn, so. There is that. All four heave a huge breath as the two members of Queen enter and they shut the door after. Holy shit, it's a go. This is not a drill; they have taken off and who knows what is in store?

They had wanted to meet John on neutral territory. How the fuck THIS place is neutral territory, Roger has absolutely no bloody clue. Unless neutral meant: _this is the place where we were the most successful in our career, or at least the first place we felt like it,_ Roger does not consider it neutral at all. Certainly neither he nor Brian are comfortable; Bri has already reached out and gripped his hand as they move forward in the dark. Well, in the half-light. That same ruddy chandelier is swinging overhead. Rog thinks John is certainly peeved about that fact, and cannot stop an ugly jolt of satisfaction from jumping in his chest. Means he won't be comfortable either. Brian takes a breath and squeezes Roger's hand, and the drummer looks up, eyes narrowed in a squint, to see Deacy up beside the piano, standing there with his shoulders slumped. He looks so tired and old and bloody _small_ , and unbidden, Roger's heart twinges in sympathy as they move closer.

John's eyes glaze over with tears as he thinks of Freddie sitting at this piano, singing about love, his fingers coaxing the most gorgeous music into the world, giving voice to all of it, everything John could dream up or think to sing, Freddie could sing it. He was a light in the darkness, a beacon of brightness and of hope, and now this piano is black and dead as his friend and he is here alone. He feels so cold. And then he hears the door creak and sees a shaft of light at the other end of the room; and then two pairs of footsteps are approaching him. He raises his eyes to turn and face them.

Two people step into the light.

Brian looks the same; his face has broadened some, and his features look craggy, but John recognises that lengthy mop of curls instantly--only difference in them is they are now grey. But those sad, gentle hazel eyes are the same, looking fondly and in some worry at the shorter presence stalking in front of him; white-haired with a beard and an intense blue gaze that snaps at him as its owner comes close. John swallows hard and moves away from the piano, tears standing in his eyes. He would know those baby blues anywhere, even after all this time. His lips tremble as he utters "...Hello there, Roger."

The drummer charges towards John, who opens his arms, and before anyone can do or say another thing, Roger is swinging at and pounding on John's chest with both fists. "You--absolute--fucking--BASTARD! Why in the bloody hell did you leave us like that?! We love you like we did Fred, and--"

"I know," John chokes out, staggering backward a bit but allowing the blows to fall. He folds, arms dropping, taking the onslaught even as he had intended to give the other man a hug. "I'm so sorry, Rog."

"Don't-!" Roger chokes out, no longer throwing punches. He grabs two fistfuls of John's shirt and shakes him instead, vehemently, furiously. There looks to be a sheen of tears in his eyes, but John cannot be sure. He is still wincing under Rog's physical onslaught. Chest smarting from the punches, but even more from the fact that he has caused, and has been causing, Roger so much pain. "Don't do that--I don't want your fucking apology, John!"

"Then...what do you want?" The former bassist croaks.

Brian has moved forward in a placating stance, but Roger does not look over at him. He is staring into John's eyes, and as the younger man speaks thus, brokenly, every ounce of fight in Roger goes away. He loses all of his rage in a rush and buries his face against Deacon's neck, still clutching onto his shirt and chest. "...Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing." _You left us, you left ME, but hell. At least you're here now. It’s about damn time._ Roger presses himself as close to the other man as he possibly can, wrapping his strong arms around him, and John is frozen in place. His torso judders with the force of Roger's shakes as he clutches him close, and then that high voice growls in a manner as dear as it is familiar: "Put your arms around me, you numpty. Or have you forgotten how hugs work after all these years?"

John lets out a giggle that morphs almost instantly into a sob but he obeys, his fingers splay across Roger's back. Brian stands to the side with a pained smile on his face and tears in his eyes as John lifts his own to look at him. Roger barks "Get in here, Brian!"

The guitarist does not need to be told twice, he lopes over, reaching out hesitantly as though to touch John's hair or face. His voice is practically inaudible as he greets "Hey there, Deacy--you're looking well."

"Not as well as you, Brian," quips John, with a dryness that holds something a trifle harsher underneath. He jokes "-You've still got the hair," and Bri lets out a real chuckle of delight.

"...Yes, I suppose I do." He folds his arms around John to join in the embrace now. "It's so good to see you, Deacy. Truly."

John freezes up again and backs away from Bri and Roger's arms. Pressing his lips together and leveling a fierce gaze at Bri, he replies "Okay. Well, why did you let me leave then, eh? If us being together was what you wanted, really wanted--to see me, to keep in touch--"

"We were broken up, John!" Roger cries.

Brian agrees softly. "Yes, we were all grieving...."

"Yes, right, but you were so CERTAIN about continuing Freddie's legacy. 'The Wonderful Mind of Brian May Conceives of Staging Queen's Comeback with the Help of Roger Taylor'. You never once asked why this was so hard, too hard for me; never wanted to know why I left--"

"Wait a minute. What the hell, mate," Roger begins.

Brian is blinking and shaking his head beneath the verbal onslaught. "...Wait a moment, John. You said you couldn't do it anymore because without Freddie we weren't Queen. I vividly, I distinctly remember you telling us that." Brian blinks hard, shifting his head, curls waving. Roger nods.

"But Fred's dead," The drummer adds, voice wobbling a wee bit. "He can't come back, he can't be here, but we can still celebrate his music and honour his memory."

"No," John bursts out, his emotions finally exploding out of him: "I CAN'T do that, because without Freddie, I-I'm not _me!_ Not a bassist or a songwriter or a performer. I can't even sing. He's the one who made me --who gave me all of that. You two, you already had it inside. Still do, if the band accounts I do are right." His voice chokes off thickly. "...You're still a band. You can reinvent yourselves with that, with that label, but -I _can't._ Freddie was my light, he WAS my music. And you never realised that because you never asked about it, never saw. It's why he and I did songs together." He cuts his eyes at Brian, thinking _it's why I cut you out of Hot Space when I could, because I wasn't like you, wasn't as strong unless Fred helped me. He let me be._ "You, you've both done fine alone as well as together, but I..." John's voice and body are trembling violently now. He needed the band. He's always needed all of the band. "I couldn't. I couldn't do this without all four of us. Can't face it." He blinks hard and ducks his head. "It's...it's taken a lot of doing for me to even come here and... and face you now."

"Why did you come, then?" Brian spits, his hackles raised at last. Roger's eyes are wide as he puts a hand out to touch Brian's chest and soothe him, but the tallest man moves away. "No, I want to know. Honestly, if it is so much of an inconvenience, and we don't even bloody SEE you, why would you be willing to meet up with us now, John? Hmm?"

John sighs heavily. "Here you go with putting words...,"

"No, don't be fucking ridiculous!" Brian snaps. "I'm not putting in any words, I just want--I need to know why you're here, John. Why you wanted to see us, to speak to us again after all this time." His eyes grow huge with pain and sorrow now, and John can hardly bear to look at him. "I've missed you, John," he whispers. "We both have. I'm sorry if we didn't...if we couldn't know how hard things without Freddie, life without Freddie has been for you. I'm sorry I didn't know what he did--" he looks at Roger, who catches his eyes and looks back at John as well. "--that he was your light."

"I never knew that Freddie was your musical light, mate," Roger murmurs, his husky voice gentler than John has ever heard it. "That you couldn't play or sing without him, but I should've. We both ought to have realised."

Brian's tone is remorseful as he turns, looking through his curls. "Rogie's right, we should have understood. I suppose we all just--got caught up?" He tries to smile, and manages it, but he still looks so very sad. Heartbroken, even. "...Why did you come today, though?"

"Honestly?" John's voice is quiet as he folds his arms and responds "...Because of them." He nods toward the door and windows, to outside where the Bohemian Rhapsody boys are waiting. "Because of Joe, and Rami, and Gwilym, and Ben. I saw their film and it reminded me of...that not all memories hurt. Some do, still; so many do, but that film helped. For a bit I had Freddie back, and well," He lets out a quiet hiccough and lifts his shoulders in a shrug, indicating the two of them. _I had you too._ "I met the lads, and they're all extraordinary, kind, caring, intelligent, gentle human beings." He looks up. "When I'm with them, I feel... heard." His gaze flickers just a bit and both Brian and Roger see the deep agony and exhaustion within it. "Truth be told, I'm tired. I wish I wasn't still so sad all the time. And I--and I've missed you. Even after--everything, packing it in, how angry I've been about all of it...I still love you both. And, well. That's it, really." John attempts to crack a smile but cannot. He shuffles his feet a bit and looks down at the floor. "So. I'm just gonna--"

"--Dry up now?" Both Brian and Roger ask at the same time. John's head shoots up and he stares. Brian, though still teary, has to chuckle and Roger grins widely. "Come on, John, we still know you."

John looks from Brian to Roger and then he laughs. After a beat they do too. It is rather cathartic, actually; and yes, John supposes they do still know him well enough. Where it counts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Punches and a hug from Rog, but the issues aren't over yet--John also has a few words for Brian...
> 
> Hopefully John's feelings here are understandable. I tried to think about why he might resent Brian a bit and mostly it's because Bri does have so much power and belief, well, in that he knows that he can still play - at the very least to honour Freddie. Meanwhile John just... can't. He cannot bear to :'(
> 
> Comments welcome and appreciated as always <3


	11. Chapter 11

The cavernous studio space rings with laughter, and for a moment the three remaining members of Queen can be at peace. With the echoes it is almost as if Freddie is there as well, laughing along with them.

But eventually the mirth peters out and Roger clears his throat, John wipes his eyes, and heavily Brian says "...Grief does funny things, doesn't it?"

John shoots Brian a quick look and then glances at Roger. Three very disparate representations of what grief can do, they are. And yet each of them have dealt with as much grief as the other two. He dips his face and responds "Yes, it does," softly. Almost inaudible. But at the very least he had come today and met them here. He'd spoken out, now; had said his piece and brought some of that into the open, and though he still feels the ache of agonising loss and sorrow tearing its dark talons through his flesh, the weight of his grief has eased. He feels --lighter, if only a little. But it is enough, at least for now. And speaking of that.... "Do you think we ought --to go and get the boys?" He asks.

Roger's head shoots up and he blinks, as if possible concern from the BoRhap lads has only just occurred to him. "Oh. Right. They probably think we've gone and murdered each other at this rate."

"Well there's still time," John quips, his tone as dry as ever it was. Some things never change. "The day's not over yet." 

Brian's eyes crinkle with a smile as Roger lets out a light-hearted bubbling laugh. Oh how he has missed his Deacy. Bri even in his own sadness is so glad to hear that laugh again. "Yes, well," the tall guitarist says with a gentle nod. "I'll go out and find them."

***

Ben is lucky they are outside, he expects, because it's simpler then for him to have a smoke, or two, or multiple to settle his nerves. Joe is cracking his knuckles and chewing on his fingernails as he walks around the grassy area near the barn at first. And then he wanders off down the hill, bends over to put his head between his knees, and lets out a screech of pent-up nerves that could probably rupture the fabric of the universe if prompted, mutters Gwilym as he steps up to stand next to Ben.

Rami goes over to Joe and puts a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles against his shirt and skin. Ben feels for him, his own heart thumps in his chest painfully on Joe's behalf.

"It's going to be okay, Joe," Rami murmurs. 

Joe's shoulders heave and abruptly he drops onto the grass on his knees, already-pale face stark white as he looks up at Rami with terror-stricken hazel eyes. "We don't _know_ that," he whimpers, losing that buoyant confidence for once. He and Rami have known one another too long for Joe to hold anything back from him. "Do you know, Rami? Because I--" he shakes his head and gulps, waving a hand, "I don't. I just wanted to do this, to do something for John in his grief. But what if Roger and Brian can't help him with it? What if Roger's too pissed, or-- or I don't know what, but he wouldn't even look at me before they went in! I'm scared, Rami, I don't want to hurt them." His face crumples and Rami drops to his knees as well, gathering his friend close to hold onto him.

"Oh, Joe." Rami presses his face against Joe's hair, rubbing his head gently as he pulls him against his chest. He rocks him back and forth slightly, saying "You know why I believe this is going to work out? Because you did it for the best possible reason. You wanted to help someone who's hurting, and I know that means everything to Roger and to Brian. Gwil told me that Brian said to thank you for doing this." The dark-headed man leans back and smiles into Joe Mazzello's face, gently chucking him under the chin. "He's already thanked you, so this meeting, it's just gravy." Rami's whole face shines with affection and compassion as he murmurs in Freddie's gentlest voice "So do try not to fret so much, love. It's going to be all right." He pats Joe's shoulder and then stands up, offering a hand.

As Joe takes hold of Rami's fingers gratefully, a creaking door opens across the way and the curly grey head of Brian May appears, turning back and forth before calling "Where are you, boys?"

Ben hauls in a breath and begins coughing on cigarette smoke and Gwil glances down at his own right forearm, which Ben had grasped involuntarily as soon as he heard Brian's voice. Instantly Ben turns to check on Rami and Joe, and he sees them crest the hill and head towards the barn, hands linked together. He feels a lurch in his chest as he takes a closer look at Joe, seeing the marks of tears on his cheeks that he smiles through and swipes away with his free hand as he catches Ben's eye.

Automatically Ben moves to stand on Joe's free side, offering his hand in support. Gwilym follows, as Ben still has his arm in a vicelike grip and does not plan on letting go. All four stand close together as they stride up to Brian, studying his demeanor as if somehow they could read it like a book. The other three glance at Gwil to see whether or not he can tell how the meeting went based upon his superior understanding and clocking of Brian's mannerisms and body language.

Gwil squints and juts out his chin a bit as he studies the older man carefully. His ever-gentle gaze holds some new, deeper sadness, it seems, but at the same time the lines on his face are a tad less pronounced. His shoulders slowly lower from where they had been hunched close to his ears, and Gwil wonders if he had automatically fallen into the stance that he had stood in back when he was young and first a part of Queen. That slightly discomfited, ducking posture; it was as if he had felt threatened, or perhaps did not wish to seem threatening. How someone might feel threatened by _Brian_ , Gwilym has no idea; but perhaps ...John could have said something, he supposes. He shrugs infinitesimally at the lads. He has nothing concrete to offer in response, just feelings.

Brian stops and looks to each of them in turn before pressing his lips together and then sweeping his arm, inviting them to enter the barn with him.

Ben takes a deep breath and snuffs out his cigarette carefully in the grass, ensuring it is completely out so as not to catch anything ablaze, and he looks back up at the others. "We can do this, yeah?" He asks them all.

"Yes," Rami nods. "We've got this."

"And we've got Joe's back," adds Gwil, leaning over and slapping Joe jovially on the shoulder.

"...Lucky me," Joe teases, or at least he attempts to. He automatically leans against Ben, though, and is still gripping tightly onto Rami's hand. Ben automatically lifts his arm and wraps it securely round Joe's shoulders, squeezing him and shooting him a nod, a nonverbal gesture of support. He's gonna keep his buddy safe and (hopefully) also keep Joe from freaking out and -or- screaming in terror again, as that would almost certainly traumatise John. Plus, got to protect him from Roger's wrath if the drummer lets loose.

***

As the boys enter the halfway illumined space, Brian walks ahead of them to where Roger and John stand, seemingly finishing up a short conversation. The drummer looks up and a heavy silence falls. Rami and Gwil exude what they hope is calm and strength and reassurance that none of them had been listening at the keyhole. Joe is very quiet and Ben hovers by his side, squeezing his shoulders and then dropping his hand to take Joe's, as Rami has relinquished his other one by this time. 

Joe feels like he may pass out, as no one has said anything. This entire idea is on him, on his head; no pressure, yeah. Absolutely none.

"You lot can uncover your ears now, I've stopped swearing," Roger offers with a slight chuckle as he looks over at them, beckoning as he clears his throat. "Please, yeah, please come in." The boys' eyes flicker from Rog to John and Brian. Brian smiles, and John nods at all of them. "So," Roger's gravelly tone cuts across the room now, less playful: "We have you to thank for getting the three of us together, Joe?"

Ben nudges his friend gently, hand going to his elbow to stop Joe from turning and bolting. Luckily he has not started screaming. Rami is rocking on his heels a bit and Gwilym has folded his hands tightly in front of his waist, attempting to calm himself whilst catching Brian's eye. Eventually Joe blurts "Um, yes sir, Roger. It was all me, but I just want to stress to you that I had the best-- only the best intentions, um."

Roger puts up a hand and steps forward. A movement next to Joe causes the drummer to widen his eyes and Joe feels pressure clamp around the front of his torso as Ben has automatically moved to block, to _shield_ his body with one arm, as though expecting a blow. Roger holds up both hands now and feels a tiny flinch of shame pass through his body. They were expecting him to get in fight with them? "Whoa, whoa, it's alright. Honestly. I'm not going to hit ya, I mean... we sorted some things out, right?" He looks to Brian and John for confirmation. 

Brian peeks across at John and then Deacy does the same after the guitarist looks away from him, but both nod. 

"Yes, we did," John says.

"Indeed. And thank you, boys." Brian's breath hitches as he shakes his hair a bit and waves a hand, encompassing himself, Roger, John, and all of this before putting his hand against his heart. "That you started the ball rolling on this, Joe, and you lot helped him carry it out--the fact that you care so much, it means a lot to us."

"Cheers," Roger nods. He knows he is still angry about some things, and probably will always be, but this meeting has helped. He is glad that he came, well, appreciative that he had practically been dragged out. He owes Brian for that. Bastard. But he thinks so without any real venom; Bri is a damn good friend. And this had given him his Johnny Deaks back, so he will be all right.

"Yes, thank you," John intones, his voice incredibly soft but his eyes heartfelt and full of appreciation. He had been honest with Brian; if it were not for these four young men, he could not have come. But he is glad he did.

Gwilym blinks rapidly and rubs a hand beneath his nose to stave off tears as Rami smiles --no, beams-- at the three band members warmly. Ben dips his face, flushing, a trifle bashful. 

But after all of that in a rush of relief, Joe's face splits in two with an enormous smile. His head shoots up happily, causing a chuckle as he looks round at his lads and waves a hand to include them all. "We are so glad this worked out," he chirps. "Especially me. I wouldn't want to be sleeping on the sidewalk." He rubs his hands together gleefully, feeling pretty much blessed. This is quite some day. "So, uh. Anybody up for... drinks, or anything?"

Roger, John, and Brian glance at one another once again. Roger cocks an eyebrow and lifts his mouth in a tiny smirk as Brian shrugs his shoulders in a good-natured manner and John's eyes crinkle after he settles himself. "...Well, alright. Why not?"

"That's the spirit!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points go to Joe in the Queen song game! Hallelujah!! Can you guess it? ;P (incredibly on the nose but I just HAD to)
> 
> Was the last line of this chapter a pun? Yes. Yes it was. And I am not sorry at all ;D
> 
> There will be twelve chapters of this piece now, lovies, so I can get all my loose thoughts in order! Please feel free to let me know what else you would like to see; I am planning to add at least one more story to this series.
> 
> Comments are welcome, and thanks so much for reading, darlings <3


	12. Chapter 12

"So. How much of our catalogue of music do you lads truly KNOW? And I'm not talking about seeing Wayne's World --or using Nabster, Joe."

Mazzello winces dramatically. "Um. You heard about that?"

Gwil chuckles. "Mate, how could they _not_ hear about it? You've said it in, like, every interview we've ever had where an interviewer asked when we first listened to Queen."

Joe grins. "So you're saying this is my 'we shot Live Aid on day one', then?" He playfully nudges Rami as he says this. Rami sips his drink and widens his eyes.

"Hey, that's one of the most impressive things we did, okay, so I'm always going to talk about it!"

Ben makes a show of support, reaching over and clasping Rami's shoulder with a nod. "Good on you, mate. I agree, that set was super impressive. And important."

"...Not saying that it wasn't _important,_ " Gwil responds.

"Kiss-up," Joe kiddingly growls.

"What?" Ben widens his eyes in innocence, those cherubic cheeks and long lashes totally not helping his case at all. Joe rolls his eyes. "I just respect Rami. Unlike SOME people here." Rami preens, and then leans into Gwil with a pat, blowing Ben a kiss before grinning over at Joe. Clearing his throat, Ben looks to Roger who had asked the initial question. "As to your catalogue, uh, well I--"

"Ben is a nerd," Joe pipes up. "Like, seriously, he's a super fan. What's your favourite song again?"

"Erm, White Queen (As It Began). It's off their second album."

"See? He knows what album it's from, the full name, and everything."

"Solid choice." 

Brian inclines his head as John whispers "...You wrote that one, right Bri?"

"I believe so, yes. It's been so long, though."

"You did, mate. I remember it, because Freddie wrote the one about the Black Queen." Roger leans across the table to pick up an appetiser. Gwilym slides the plate closer and receives a thank-you from the drummer.

They had found a small tavern that was not catered to tourists, and so is deserted at this hour--it is still a little early for drinks, even in Wales, though the place also serves edibles, so the group is munching on morsels as they crowd, sit, and stand around a back booth; several heavy chairs were pulled up to the table.

"Back to the question, lads. Come on."

"Uhh, well I don't know much, honestly, not like by name of the album it's on, but... I really started liking songs like 'Save Me'. It's really poignant, that one. I wish we could've had it in the film," Rami says a trifle self-conscious. 

Joe nudges him. "Is that because it's Lucy's favourite song?"

Rami ducks his head with a sweet yet shifty grin. "... Maybe."

"Ugh, you are SO in love," Joe teases.

Gwilym beams, rubbing Rami's back in congratulation on that fact. "Yes, they are. It's sweet, Joe."

"Yeah, yeah."

"What are you going on grumbling about? You have Ben here."

Joe smirks across the table. "That's true. Unless he's decided to run away with you, Gwil. ANYWAY, speaking of that, I will always always pick Somebody To Love as the best Queen song ever. Sorry but I'm not actually sorry," he beams.

"Okay."

"That was Freddie's favourite."

"So I've heard," Joe waggles his eyebrows at his costars with smugness. "Look at me, I've got culture. Freddie approves."

"That's the ONLY culture you've got, mate."

"That was so cocky, I love it," Ben giggles at Joe quietly.

"Okay but we've got someone who hasn't spoken yet. What songs do you like, Gwil?" Brian calls over.

Gwilym taps his index finger against his chin in thought. "Hm. That's a tough one. Definitely in the movie I'd have liked us to do a version of 'Tie Your Mother Down' because it's just so rock n roll." He lifts both fists and clenches them, air hissing through his teeth. "But I'm also a fan of your bluesy stuff, like Sleeping on the Sidewalk. Sail Away Sweet Sister is also really good. And yes, Joe, I caught your reference earlier, ya dirty dirty bastard."

Joe beams. "Ah c'mon, Gwilly, you just wanted the chance to sing didn't you?" Joe pillows his cheek in his hand, gazing at Gwilym. "Come in, admit it man."

Gwil's eyes flicker back and forth a bit as he innocuously sips his drink, blotting his beard free of moisture. "Alright fine, yeah," he allows with a giddy smile. "Can you honestly blame me, though? Brian had some hits, not limited to Fat-Bottomed Girls!"

"We know," the lads chorus, looking at the three band members. "--You all did."

John chuckles as the four boys get into a lively debate on whether or not Brian would sing the live versions of any of those songs if they HAD been in the movie, however. He looks up at Bri beside him, who is smiling; and at Roger, who has put a hand on his shoulder. He feels a magnetic pull, as if he has been grounded and positioned where he needs to be at long last.

Between his two bandmates, his family, and surrounded by this lovely group of lads who are on their way to becoming family too... For the first time in a good while, John Deacon feels truly, completely happy and at peace in a particular given moment. 

He is glad that he had chosen to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all for me on this story, darlings! Thank you so much for reading, and I appreciate comments, as always <3
> 
> We shall see what Veronica thinks and hears in the next installment of this series... And of course, there will be more Mazzello antics. :D I've got two other stories in the works right now, so I'll likely be finishing them beforehand, but fluff and inspiration for the Queen and BoRhap family series are officially a go!


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